


Chosen by Fire. 1/7.

by punky_96



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-01 13:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14521452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punky_96/pseuds/punky_96
Summary: Re-post from LJ.When Andrea wished for a guide she had no idea what the firelight would do.Content Notes: none apply. (This means: no underage smexy times, no noncon/dubcon, no incest, no self-harm, and no suicide)





	1. The Wish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jazwriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazwriter/gifts).



> Beta: jah728
> 
> Prompt: jazwriter: AU where their worlds collide, they have instant chemistry, and they give in to their feelings after briefly fighting them. Author decides how and why Miranda and Andy cross paths.
> 
> A/N: Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, I seem to only be able to grasp parts of a prompt and can barely even come close to canon these days. So, here is what came to me from the ‘worlds collide, instant chemistry, and author decides’ parts of that prompt. I had to put the other idea I started with in the bunny hutch as it wouldn’t cooperate at all. I hope that you still enjoy when all is said and done.
> 
> A/N 2: The story verse here depicts a race of alien humanoids who have wings and some, I suppose, magic. They have lived here since the ancient Greek times. I do not go into their history here. There’s about 100k words of it somewhere... Thanks again, jah728!!!!

_**Chosen by Fire. Part 1/7.**_  
  
With her back to the fire, Andrea watched the shadows jump about on the walls. The room had once been filled with so much love, where now it was only echoes of a life now irretrievable. None of it made sense and she knew that it was so much more than the denial stage of grief. Sometimes she thought she caught flashes of it in her mind, but then she’d settle back into the world around her—class, the library, dinner with her aunt and uncle—and she’d know that those glimpses could not possibly have been from memory.  
  
Three years ago, when she was thirteen, Andrea had been camping with her parents in the Appalachian Mountains. She could have sworn that they were at a campfire held by the ranger with some of the other folks in for the weekend. She never knew what really happened after that—it all faded to chaos around her tainted with fear. Perhaps she had been lost in the story of the firelight and the ranger? Perhaps magic was real and her parents had stumbled into a portal? Perhaps they’d somehow been lured away by a serial killer fascinated by flannel?  
  
All she knew was the certainty that they were gone and there had been a lot of feathers on the ground when her aunt and uncle had marched her through the campground to their car.  
  
The rangers had packed up their camping stuff and sent it, but it just sat unused in the garage like her parents’ cars.  
  
Most of the time, Andrea could shake off the blanket of melancholy enough to have a quote normal day.  
  
Other times she’d have to take refuge in her upstairs room after checking in with her guardians. As the days ticked by into weeks and then seasons Andrea had matured into a tall, young woman who floundered in her own skin and charmed everyone with her awkwardness. Her parents’ house had been paid off with the insurance and now everything sat as if in stasis until Andrea came of age and could assume full ownership. Initially her aunt and uncle had taken her to pick up her things—clothes, notebooks, CDs, and whatever else a thirteen year old needed. Many of those things had been out grown and cast aside, but the house and all it held still claimed her heart. Eventually Andrea had been allowed to go on her own to visit with her memories.  
  
It was her 16th birthday, but instead of a sweet sixteen, she’d asked for solitude. Turning toward the cupcake on the bench beside her, Andrea reached for the lighter. Flicking it once and then a second time, she lit the single blue and white spiral striped candle. Closing her eyes and breathing deep, she murmured her wish as she looked at the candle and blew. “I wish I had a guide.” Closing her eyes once more, Andrea opened them quickly at the sound of female voice.  
  
“What did you wish for?” Startled into standing, Andrea dropped the cupcake with its candle. When Andrea just blinked slowly at her, the woman motioned at the fallen sweet. “What did you wish for?”  
  
Shaking her head and looking around the room that definitely was not her living room in light that was much, much brighter than her darkened evening, Andrea spluttered. “Wh-wh-what? Uh, who are you?” Frantically looking about to find her living room, the fire, or even the ghostly memories of her childhood, Andrea felt her stomach turn inside out. She clenched her hands into fists as her face went pale. “Where am I?” Unable to flex her fists tight enough to hang onto consciousness, Andrea simply descended to the floor as her knees bent forward and her body continued down.  
  
“Oh my.” The other woman hurried forward in an attempt to catch the younger woman’s head to no avail.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Blinking chocolate brown eyes open without seeing at first, Andrea’s body shook as she recognized the feeling of air entering her lungs and pain throbbing in her head and knees. She supposed if she could feel pain that she was still in the land of the living, though as the world took shape around her, she wasn’t sure if she was in the land of the conscious.  
  
Blue eyes looked worriedly into her own, set in a face so smooth that Andrea wanted to reach up and touch it. The woman’s soft white hair set her fingers tingling with the desire to touch it. Rising over her shoulders white feathered wings curved around and down out of sight behind the woman Andrea remembered seeing once.  
  
“What’s your name?” The soothing voice seemed to call something from deep inside Andrea as the woman took her hand in her own. “I can’t help you if I don’t know who you are.” Drawn to the other woman, Andrea flexed her muscles in an effort to sit up. “Just relax for now. I need to know you don’t have a concussion.” The woman’s other hand pressed her shoulder down to keep her from moving too fast.  
  
“Andrea Sachs.” She blinked her eyes at the other woman, intrigued by the comfort she felt in her presence. “Everyone calls me, Andy.”  
  
The blue eyes flashed a darker shade, and Andrea finally understood the term ‘stormy eyes.’ The displeasure radiated from the woman whose hands still pressed against her shoulder and clasped her hand. “Andrea.” The woman poured the syllables of her name off her tongue like honey. Andrea shivered against the softness under her. “You may call me, Miranda.” Shifting so that she could politely shake the young brunette’s hand, Miranda refused to think about how close they had just been. Dropping her hand after the shake, Miranda stepped back.  
  
“I fainted?” Andrea leaned up enough to look down the length of her body and then around the room that most certainly was not her childhood living room.  
  
Pursed lips only hummed Miranda’s agreement as she stood fully. “I’ll be right back.”  
  
Andrea realized she was on the floor in a stranger’s home after passing out, after blowing on her single sad birthday candle. Getting up would mean facing whatever world she seemed to be in and she wasn’t quite ready to know just how far down the rabbit’s hole she had fallen. Footsteps of a different cadence drew her attention around the room, but it wasn’t until she felt the wet snout of an animal on her hand, that Andrea identified the newcomer. Not content with licking her hand, since it hadn’t pet her, the beast had continued on up to the face hoping to get a reaction with a slurp. Blinking and wiping her mouth, Andrea sat up. The other woman might not like it, but she wasn’t just going to just let the large dog slobber her face off. Turning to look at the furry intruder, Andrea smiled as she recognized a Saint Bernard with soulful brown eyes and what looked like a luxuriously soft coat. “Hello there.” Andrea cooed as she let the dog nuzzle her hand before stroking its head and then scratching under the collar. Pushing off the floor, the young woman made her way to the couch a few steps away. “What a good girl you are, not even going for the cupcake.” Andrea smiled at the dog as she pet it and looked around the room noticing the tilted bottom up treat on the floor. She let out a sigh as she realized it was on the wood flooring and not the probably priceless rug.  
  
“I guess you’re well enough to get up.” Miranda observed as she re-entered the room. “Good.” She tapped the flashlight against her palm as she crossed the room.  
  
“What’s that for?” Andrea asked as the older woman approached her.  
  
“You hit your head. Does it hurt?” When Andrea shook her head slowly, Miranda crossed her arms over her chest and contemplated her for several long seconds. Deciding something at last, she sighed, “I should check your pupils and balance at least.” Miranda waved her arm up to the side as an indication of her frustration and her wings fluttered behind her. “The other indicators might not be as reliable in this situation.”  
  
Frowning at that, Andrea tilted her head to the side and nibbled her thumb for a moment. “You have wings, but my head doesn’t hurt, so I see your point.” Clasping her hands together in her lap, she asked, “Do you think I’m crazy?”  
  
Motioning toward the nearly forgotten cupcake mess, Miranda retorted, “If you’re crazy, then how did that get on my floor?” She let the words sink in as she motioned to the treat. “Also, I may be many things, but I am not your hallucination.”  
  
Biting her thumb again nervously, Andrea seemed to be grinding observable facts into theory. Miranda felt the corners of her mouth curve up in a small smile, because the teenager was bright. “So you’re telling me that I made a birthday wish on that cupcake candle and ended up in your living room, but I don’t have a concussion?”  
  
Unexpectedly enjoying her evening’s interruption, Miranda returned the question, “Did you start your day in Manhattan?” Holding out her hand, Miranda shook it in a gesture that indicated a murky state of existence. “That could all be true and you could still have a concussion, so you see the need to check.”  
  
Andrea’s jaw dropped open as her mind registered the location the older woman mentioned. “Manhattan?” She blinked and looked at the dog sitting below her now unmoving hand. “I’m in New York?” She squeaked.  
  
“Indeed.” Miranda kept her answer short and to the point. “Your eyes first, I think.” Bending down toward Andrea, the white haired woman ordered her to fix on something over her shoulder. She peered into Andrea’s brown eyes and then asked her to follow her finger as she moved it back and forth in front of her. “Now in the dark.” Miranda had indicated the next phase as she stepped away and flicked the light switch. The room illuminated only by the hall light, she returned to her patient. “Okay, same thing.” Once again she looked into Andrea’s eyes and then had her follow her finger from side to side. “Close your eyes for a few seconds so they are in the darkest we have available.” After several seconds, Miranda gently explained, “I’m going to have you open your right eye first and shine a light in it. Then we’ll pause and do the same thing on the left. Okay?”  
  
Basking in the other woman’s presence, Andrea sighed, “Sure.”  
  
Standing after the eye exam, Miranda pointed the flashlight at her bare feet. “I’ll get the light and Patricia and we can test your balance.” She stepped back toward the light switch and set the flashlight on the table just below it with a vase of flowers.  
  
“Who’s Patricia?” Andrea wondered as she watched the woman.  
  
Shaking her head instead of answering, Miranda snapped her fingers and pointed down next to her feet. “Patricia, come.” Her tone was not loud or angry, yet it still held the snap of authority. The dog sitting at Andrea’s feet stood and then walked over to her master. Petting the animal with love, Miranda complimented her. “What a good dog you are.” After a scratch behind the ears, she turned to face the dog and commanded the dog with a single word, “Down.” Once it settled fully on the floor, the white haired woman backed up and then turned to approach Andrea.  
  
Smiling as the other woman returned to her, Andrea shared, “I’ve never seen a dog do that. Cool.”  
  
“If you’ll stand then we can test your balance.” Miranda held her hands out to offer support just in case. She did not stop to ponder why she hoped the other woman would reach for her. “We can walk around the room.” She offered as Andrea stood and smoothed down her tight jeans and blue tank top.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Motioning Andrea over to the couch, Miranda went over to the patient dog to compliment her good behavior and give her a few pats. As the dog chose its place in the room, Miranda joined her in the conversation area of the room. Before she could sit down though, she took a few moments to shake her shoulders. Her blue eyes appeared to be fixed on something over Andrea’s shoulder on the wall. Wondering what could have distracted the other woman so much, Andrea followed the path of her eyes. Frowning as she realized that it seemed the woman had been staring at the empty wall in the hallway just outside the living room entrance, Andrea turned to ask the other woman about it. Miranda had settled into the leather chair near the couch and leaned back in a relaxed posture as she regarded her sudden guest.  
  
“Where did your wings go?” Andrea asked in a whisper. “It’s totally nuts, but I know you had wings a minute ago.”  
  
Leaning forward and fixing Andrea with a look, Miranda asked, “Which birthday is it for you?”  
  
Andrea wanted to protest, but she could see in the other woman’s eyes that this was important. She just hoped that the woman would eventually explain why. “The sixteenth. It’s my sixteenth birthday.”  
  
Tapping her fingertips against her lips for a moment, Miranda lowered her hand to her thigh and asked, “What did you wish for?” When it looked like the youngster would protest, Miranda relaxed her posture and offered, “Please, it’s important. Then I will answer your questions.”  
  
Blushing furiously, Andrea looked down at her lap and tried to focus on her breathing. ‘ _This is why birthday wishes aren’t made out loud._ ’ She grumbled to herself, ‘ _They are private._ ’ Then her mind added, ‘ _And embarrassing_.’ Then in a shrill mental shriek she added to herself, ‘ _And private._ ’ This caused her blush to deepen down her neck and under her shirt, instead of just blossoming on her cheeks and making the tops of her ears burn. “I wished for a guide.” Uncertain why she felt the need, Andrea added, “Then I blew out my candle.”  
  
Realization hitting then, Miranda crossed her left leg over her right. “Your eyes were closed and then you opened them as you made your wish.”  
  
Gasping as she sat forward on the couch edge, Andrea wondered, “How did you know that?”  
  
Waving off her curiosity as if it was nothing, Miranda explained, “Around the sixteenth birthday is when our people come into their powers. You made a wish, looked at the flame, and appeared here.”  
  
Absorbing the words, while rejecting their content, Andrea frowned. “You are my guide?” When Miranda said nothing, Andrea sarcastically added, “My guide with wings. Are you like a guardian angel or something?”  
  
Rolling her eyes at the youngster, Miranda huffed, “Petulant. That’s just great.”  
  
Her lip curling up in indignation, Andrea fired back, “You offered to answer my question and it fits. I wished for a guide—you, I guess.” She scrunched her face up with this remark and continued. “And wings, so duh. You guide or guard and have wings like angel.” She motioned at the now absent wings on Miranda’s back.  
  
Uncrossing and then putting the right leg over the other, Miranda closed her body language with her arms over her chest. “I assure you that I am not a guard and despite the wings am not an angel.”  
  
Silence fell between them and even though Andrea knew it was her turn to speak, she found herself torn between asking a question, which was vulnerable, or sniping back to start an argument. As much as she wanted to hide behind anger or frustration, Andrea also knew she didn’t want the other woman to throw her out of her home.  
  
Eventually it clicked that Miranda could probably sit and stare at her forever, or at least easily longer than Andrea could stand it. “You said on the sixteenth birthday that our people come into their powers. What does that mean?”  
  
Glad they were finally getting somewhere, Miranda answered. “We are what humans call Avian Humanoids. There are other avian species, however our people came to Earth in the time of the ancient Greeks from a planet now lost to us.”  
  
Andrea tried to process all of her words, but it was just so incredible that not all the pieces were making a picture just yet. “You keep saying ‘our’ people and ‘us’. Why do you keep doing that?”  
  
Getting up and grabbing the candle from the cupcake mess, Miranda held up the frosting covered stick of wax. “One of our powers is the ability to travel on candle light or flame.” Opening the drawer on the end table, the older woman held up a lighter. Sitting next to Andrea on the couch, Miranda instructed her, “Tuck your arm into my elbow. That’s it. Now when I light the candle, think of your home.”  
  
Andrea didn’t recall blinking her eyes, but figured she must have since she was certain she hadn’t blacked out. Either way she was sitting with her arm tucked into Miranda’s elbow on her bed in the upstairs room of her aunt and uncle’s house. “Oh my God.” Andrea breathed out as she pulled her arm from Miranda’s and turned to face her. “You brought us here on candlelight?”  
  
Miranda shook her head slightly and held up a finger to correct Andrea. “You’ll find that I do not even know where here was. I simply lit the candle and made sure you were hanging on to me when you decided where we should go.”  
  
Scooting further away from Miranda on her bed, Andrea felt the pillows behind her and grabbed one to hug. “I decided? You’re crazy.” Her dark brown eyes were wide with disbelief.  
  
“I assure you that I did not think of this place.” Miranda looked around the teen’s room recognizing it for what it was—the den of a moody broody adolescent with questionable taste and an obsession or two with musicians or celebrities if the posters were anything to go by. “Where are we exactly?” She tried to keep the disdain out of her voice, but it was difficult. She herself had not been sixteen in quite some time and it was hard to put the brain back into that particularly peculiar headspace. There were books crammed everywhere in the room regardless of whether there were shelves for them or not. Miranda found that heart warming, but shrugged it off for a future date so far away that it didn’t bear thinking about.  
  
“This is my aunt Tara and uncle Brandon’s place, well, this is my room. They took me in after my parents died.” Andrea cupped her hand over her mouth to try and stop the flow of words. She could not believe that she’d offered up that information so easily. It wasn’t as if it was a secret. However it wasn’t like that was something that was really talked about either.  
  
“How long ago?” Miranda’s voice held no judgment or pity, it seemed that it was just a natural question that needed answering in order to understand the events of the evening.  
  
“Three years.” Andrea looked away and bit her lip. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from being completely open and while she wanted that with Miranda, it went against her usual way and was disconcerting.  
  
“Tara and Brandon.” Miranda seemed to mull the names over before she continued. “Which one of them was directly related to your parents?”  
  
Looking back at the white haired woman, Andrea tried to understand her line of questioning. Usually people asked what happened to her parents, which always presented difficulties because she wasn’t sure exactly, so how could she explain it to others. Instead Miranda wanted to know her family tree. “My aunt Tara was my dad’s older sister by a couple of years. Why?”  
  
Andrea could see Miranda file the fact away for later use, which intrigued her. “Do they have children of their own?”  
  
Shaking her head in the negative, Andrea realized that she’d let Miranda skip the answer to her question. “I don’t see how any of this is relevant to how I ended up in your living room.”  
  
Footsteps on the stairs alerted them to the presence of her guardians. “It’s a long story and I promise that you’ll understand my questions in time.”  
  
A sharp knock sounded on the door twice accompanied by a terse, “Andrea.” The name was followed by the knob turning and the door sliding open. Concerned and surprised, aunt Tara and uncle Brandon remained at the threshold of the door. Seeing the woman sitting on the teenager’s bed, Tara stepped forward, “What’s this? Who are you?”  
  
Miranda appreciated the protectiveness in the other woman’s voice; however she knew it wasn’t necessary and she knew that she wouldn’t be there if the woman had simply followed through on the rest of her familial duty to the dark haired teenager sitting in the pillows confused and in need of support. “My name is Miranda Priestly.”  
  
Tara blinked slowly and settled the backs of her fists onto her hips. “I know who you are.” Andrea had only heard that tone of voice a few times and she had never wanted to hear it again. She was silently thankful that it had been directed at Miranda, even though she knew that she should speak up.  
  
Brandon stepped into the room, “I think what Tara is getting at is why you are in our daughter’s bedroom while you are clearly an adult. So?” He stood next to his wife, but slightly behind to let her have full stage and to keep himself back from the striking woman sitting on the bed with Andrea. He would back his wife up if he needed to, but he hoped that he wouldn’t be needed.  
  
“Tara.” The white haired woman stood effortlessly on her high heels. Her tone scolded even in the only two syllables she had uttered. Holding up the candle, Miranda sucked in her teeth and shook her head from side to side. “We don’t quite have the details worked out yet, but I think you know as well as I do that kids make wishes on birthday candles.” Crossing the room as she spoke, Miranda now stood face to face with Tara holding up the blue and white stripe birthday candle from the cupcake. Tara knew the candle had come from her kitchen downstairs because she had given it to the girl with a hug just before she left for her parents’ house. “You took Andrea in, but you neglected to explain her heritage and she ended up in my living room.” Miranda fixed her blue eyes on Tara and simply let the words sink in as she breathed in and out over and over again.  
  
Many emotions crossed the face of the beautiful brunette whose hair was shading to silver. Her husband watched as the second ticked by, his body shifting closer to hers centimeter by centimeter. The tension in the air had the hair on his neck rising.  
  
Andrea had actually bitten down on her pillow. Her aunt and uncle had taken her in, called her daughter, and doted on her to the extent that she’d let them. She loved them in a way she could not explain because they had taken over the duty of caring for her when no one else would have. Not only that, but they had done so gladly.  
  
On the other hand the young woman felt that Miranda held answers to questions she had not even known to ask before and she did not want the woman to leave. Not now when there were still so many things she wanted to know. Not before she even knew half of what she didn’t know she was missing.  
  
“Fine.” Tara sighed shaking her head as she stepped back toward the door of the bedroom. “Let’s go downstairs then.” Catching a clue, Brandon stepped into the hallway quickly and headed down the stairs to the kitchen.  
  
Miranda looked back at Andrea and then followed her uncle down the stairs.  
  
Jumping up, Andrea slipped in front of her aunt to follow behind Miranda.  
  
Tara trailed behind her thoughts racing.  
  
In the kitchen Brandon had remained standing to wait for his wife. Miranda would not sit without invitation from her host. Andrea stood lost trying to figure out the subtleties of the situation flowing around her. Tara opened a drawer and pulled out a lighter. “I will explain our heritage to Andrea and tutor her in our ways. Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention.” She held the lighter out toward Miranda in a clear dismissal.  
  
Glancing toward Andrea and wanting to spare her the awkward pain of this situation, Miranda breathed deeply in an effort to tamp down her initial blunt and scathing remark. Nigel had been trying to work with her on this, though mostly he just had to run interference in the aftermath of her truth telling. Regardless it had worked out well for them so far—they had risen through the ranks at Runway quickly and its reputation for excellence was trending upward. “It will not be that simple.” Miranda figured that with less words, hopefully she could get the point across while keeping her cool. “Andrea did not wish to meet Miranda Priestly, or to learn fashion. Something easily taken care of and then dismissed.”  
  
Tara flipped the lighter into her palm and closed her fist around it. She glanced at her husband and then focused back on Miranda. “I don’t see why not.” She hissed still clinging to her denial.  
  
Looking around her, Miranda took two steps and leaned against the counter. She crossed her arm over her chest and then bent the other up so that her fingertips tapped against her lips for a few moments. She watched Tara scoot closer to her husband, while Andrea watched uncertainly from the entryway. “He doesn’t know.” She waved her free hand at the man in question and then sucked her teeth in disapproval. “That’s why you didn’t have children. You’ve turned your back on your people.”  
  
Wrapping an arm around his wife’s hips, Brandon huffed at the stranger in their house, “You don’t know us. You should leave.”  
  
Miranda raised an eyebrow at the man and he visibly wilted. She refocused on Tara. “She came to me on accident. And when she flies?” Tara bit her lip and resolutely kept her eyes on Miranda’s trying in vain to not cave under the other woman’s steady righteousness. “I tire easily of games, Tara.” Miranda used her quietest voice to warn the shorter woman, yet she refused to make eye contact as if ignoring her would make it all disappear. “Fine.” Miranda stepped away from the counter, stood with her feet shoulder width apart, fixed her eyes on Andrea, and shook her shoulders. Her blue eyes remained steady on Andrea’s face as the younger woman’s eyes traced not only the curves of her wings, but of her body as well.  
  
Brandon gasped, “Is that real?” He clutched at his wife’s arm.  
  
Stepping fully into the kitchen, Andrea stopped next to Miranda as her eyes drank in the shape, texture, color, and apparent strength of the wings sprouting from her shoulders up over her head and then down almost to the floor. Her fingers tingled with the desire to touch the immaculate feathers. “You’re so beautiful.” Andrea murmured as she inched even closer.  
  
“One day you will have your own, Andrea.” The older woman turned to face the young woman whom she wanted to shelter and share knowledge with.  
  
When Andrea took another step toward the newcomer, Tara rushed to her side, trying to hold her back. “Don’t get any closer, dear.”  
  
Miranda stepped so that Tara stopped just in front of her as she tried to dissuade Andrea’s interest. “Why have you turned your back on your people?” She tapped Tara’s back as she murmured something unheard by the others.  
  
“Oh! Ow!” Tara’s face contorted in pain and she pushed Andrea away from her as she bent forward with her hands on her knees. Silvered brown feathers erupted from her back, forming a high curve that began to wend its way down toward the floor and fill in to create complete wings.  
  
“Tara!” Brandon shouted as he stepped forward, but held back uncertain of what was happening to his wife. “What did you do to her?” He shouted at Miranda.  
  
Andrea found herself unable to speak as she was confronted with the sudden appearance of wings on her aunt. Disbelief, shock, and concern danced all over her capacity for speech keeping her a silent observer.  
  
Standing fully once again, Tara ran her hands over her face a few times and swore. “I can’t believe you did that.” She rounded on Miranda full of fury.  
  
Nonplussed, Miranda blinked at the woman trying to gage how many words she could get out before she verbally flayed the woman. “The long way round would have wasted time.” She shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. “Now the cat’s out of the bag.” When no one else had anything to contribute, even though they had plenty of time to come up with something, Miranda continued. “Don’t you want to know what Andrea wished for?” She sighed as she tried to look Tara in the eye and convince her this was happening like it or not so she should get on with it.  
  
Tara closed her eyes and swallowed hard trying to get her breathing back in order. She had not had her wings out for nearly ten years. The emotions within her were a violent swirl and she knew she needed to tamp down on them in order to do what was best for Andrea. It just seemed that her original plan was being shot to hell before her very eyes and in ways that could never be altered back to the life she had known.  
  
“Aunt Tara, I wished for a guide.” Andrea’s voice was small, but confident.  
  
Miranda smiled at the young woman learning to stand up for herself at a crucial time in her life. “So you see, Tara, I cannot just go away. The firelight chose me for Andrea.”  
  
Falling to her knees, Tara let the tears massing in her eyes march forward. Andrea rushed to her, kneeling on the cold kitchen floor and hugging her easily despite the wings. She knew that would take some getting used to and she’d have to think about it, however her aunt hurt right now and she needed to provide comfort. When she could breath a little easier, Tara closed her eyes and released a truth that had been tearing her apart for years. “Staying true to the people cost my husband his life.” Sucking in a deep breath of air, she looked right at Andrea before continuing, “It cost Andrea her parents.” Looking at Miranda, she sighed. “I don’t know how to do this anymore, Miranda.”  
  
Andrea sat back on her ankles and then just slumped sideways to settle on the cold floor. “My parents?”  
  
Returning her gaze to the young woman, Tara nodded, “You saw the feathers, but didn’t understand and I didn’t know how to tell you.”  
  
The sound of despair had Miranda hiding her wings as she rushed forward to catch Andrea before she could collapse on the floor fully. Wrapping her arms around the young woman, Miranda murmured into her hair comforting nonsense until the teen tensed in her arms and then hugged her back. “Thank you.” Andrea murmured as she pulled away and looked into those stormy blue eyes.  
  
“The firelight chose you, so I will accept you as Andrea’s guide.” Banishing her wings, Tara joined them on the floor.  
  
“Um, how’s that going to work?” Andrea nibbled on her thumb as she sat between the two women. “She lives in Manhattan. It’s not like I can commute.”  
  
Casting about on the floor, Tara came back with the lighter. “You went to your parents’ house tonight, right?” When Andrea nodded, Tara smiled at her. “So how did you meet Miranda?” She saw a spark in those brown eyes and smiled. “And how did the both of you end up in your bedroom?” She smiled as Andrea seemed to catch on, but glared at Miranda.  
  
“Location doesn’t matter too much if you have firelight.” Andrea expressed her conclusion out loud.  
  
“And cell phones.” Miranda added, knowing that with her schedule they’d have to organize a little better than the impromptu birthday celebration in her living room.  
  
Coming around to stand over the women, Brandon scrunched his face up to be quite stern. “I don’t know what you are talking about. You’re nearly 40 and Andrea is 16. You will not be hanging out at all—fire or phone or anything.”  
  
Patting his leg, Tara maneuvered so that she could stand and face him. “I appreciate your concerns, honey. I understand them, but there are other things going on here that you know nothing about.” Taking his hand she pulled him across the kitchen and back out into the living room dining area. “Among our people, if the fire chooses you, that cannot be argued with.” Seeing him about to object again, Tara added, “Miranda will be honorable until the time is appropriate. I know her. I don’t just know of her, Brandon, I know her. She is many things—fierce, audacious, and even confrontational—but she is as honorable as they come.”  
  
Shaking his head, Brandon slapped his hand against his leg. “You have wings.” His tone held such anguish that Tara winced and reached for his hand. “You say things like ‘our’ people.” He looked at her with tears in his eyes, “You say that they are, what, destined for each other?”  
  
Looking into his eyes, Tara hoped she could open all of herself to him finally. It was difficult after all the years spent hiding from him as well as hiding from herself. “For now they are destined in the sense of guiding or perhaps mentoring. Over time the bond between them can shift and grow into something else, or it can live its life and fade away for another destiny to come.” Cupping his cheek and smoothing her thumb against the rough skin, she added, “Andrea will be safer than ever before with us watching out for her along with having Miranda as her guide.”  
  
Resting his hands on her hips, Brandon nodded slightly. “Will you tell me about all of this now?” His eyes searched hers and she nearly pulled away from the intensity. He would not reproach her for keeping secrets, yet he wouldn’t stand for it now that he knew. Once she nodded her agreement, he followed up with, “Will Andy have wings too?”

 

 

...


	2. Patience

_**Chosen by Fire. Part 2/7.**_  
  
 _Four months later…_  
  
Up to her eyeballs in paperwork, Miranda longed to take flight. Ever since taking over the editorial reins, she had been battling against the board and the chairman in particular. Her only saving grace over the years had been Nigel. He shared her dry wit and harsh humor. Their love of fashion and women had dovetailed into a wonderful partnership as they kept the frying pan in the fire just enough to keep it hot, but not enough to burn. Today though she wished that he had been the one-stepping forward first instead of her.  
  
“You called?” He stepped into her office and bowed his head as he made an elaborate roll of his hand in her direction. Standing he took in her overly calm features and wondered just what was driving this summons and her demeanor. It had been a strange few months.  
  
“I need you to attend the dinner tonight.” Miranda’s eyes pleaded with him, though her tone gave nothing away.  
  
Settling into the chair opposite Miranda’s desk, he tilted his head as he sized her up. “On one condition.” He offered back in answer.  
  
Fingers steepled in front of her, Miranda raised a brow slightly at this. “Which is?”  
  
Leaning back in his chair, he quietly asked, “What is it, Miranda? Where have you been going these last few months? What have you been doing?”  
  
Pursing her lips, Miranda knew she’d have to tell him sooner or later. Unfortunately, it would just make it all the more real and all the more difficult. On the other hand, she needed him—his friendship, his counsel, and his comfort. “You remember Andrea?”  
  
He thought for a moment his eyes drifting. “Oh yes. She’s lovely. Did you get her to lose those pounds so she could model?”  
  
Closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose, Miranda sighed. “No, no. Andrea is of the people. She appeared in my house after making a wish on a candle for her sixteenth birthday.”  
  
Nigel straightened up immediately. “The fire chose you for her?”  
  
Nodding once, Miranda murmured, “She wished for a guide.”  
  
He was thrilled because this happened so rarely among the people, although he had heard stories from his family. “That’s wonderful. She’s beautiful.” Nigel gushed.  
  
Shaking her head, Miranda hissed. “She’s a teenager.” Turning her chair away from him, Miranda looked for long moments out the window and then stood to press her palm against the cool glass. “I don’t need this right now. It’s so beautiful and delicate and I don’t have the time. Why couldn’t her aunt have just done her part?”  
  
She was ranting to herself, but Nigel caught the gist of it. So he made his way around her desk until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with her. “The fire chose you, Miranda. You can do this.” He elbowed her and smiled. “You don’t have time for a relationship right now, so just focus on work and being there for her. It’s not like the bond has changed, right?”  
  
Looking at him as if meeting him for the first time, Miranda knew this was why they had been friends through so many tribulations. “Focus on work, and be there for her, that simple, hmm?” He nodded at her and she knew it wasn’t like work wasn’t her focus most of the time anyway. “The bond has not changed between us, for which I am thankful. Yet even now, I want no one else. It is as if that part of me has been shuttered away behind a curtain.”  
  
Grimacing at the thought of that part of his brain being curtained off, Nigel tried to focus on something else. “You mentioned her aunt?”  
  
Touching her necklace absently, Miranda followed the conversational thread. “Yes, Andrea lost her parents a few years ago and her aunt and uncle took her in as their own. Tara is of the people, but had renounced our heritage after the death of her first husband. Andrea knows nothing of our ways. She ended up wishing for a guide, not even knowing fire travel existed or that some people had wings—and ended up in my living room.” Standing more open to Nigel, Miranda looked into his eyes as she added the next bit. “Perhaps if the guidance had already been there, Andrea and I could have crossed paths at a more interesting time. You know how patient I am with others.”  
  
Nigel couldn’t help chuckling at that statement. “Yes, your patience is world renown by this time.”  
  
Blinking her blue eyes at him, Miranda returned to the reason she had summoned him to her office. “So you’ll go tonight for me?”  
  
Letting go of his plans in his head, Nigel sighed. “What’s for dinner? Oh, wait, they are expecting you. Let me guess—steak.” At her incredulous look, he smirked and patted her arm. “At least they are always the very best steaks possible.” Stepping away from her and distancing them both from all the emotions, he rolled his hand at her again as he bowed his head toward her. “Of course I’ll go.”  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Knowing that Nigel would cover their business for the evening, Miranda made her way home. Andrea had been so upset earlier that finishing the afternoon had been terribly difficult. Slipping into more comfortable clothes and slightly shorter heels, the fashion editor focused on being calm for her younger charge. It wouldn’t do for Miranda to finally arrive only to be useless in her agitated state. Tara and Brandon had worked with Andrea and herself to work out a schedule, so she wasn’t sure why Andrea would need to call her in between their sessions. Comforting herself that if something major had gone wrong, that Tara would at least call her, Miranda took a few moments to focus on her breathing.  
  
In the last four months Miranda had shared the story as they knew it of their people arriving on Earth in the time of the ancient Greeks and continuing through the ages. She didn’t waste time on the traditional aspects of teaching, since she herself used modern language and thought to focus her energy when the time was needed. Andrea would do the same. She would not force the girl to learn Greek sayings that approximated the effect desired from their powers. The girl had accidentally travelled on firelight with just the power of a focused wish—she didn’t need to tap into the ritual of it. She felt it as naturally as breathing. Instead they had focused on the conflicts among the factions of their people and while Miranda waited for Andrea’s other powers to manifest, she began to train her in defense.  
  
Tucking an extra lighter into her trouser pocket, Miranda lit the one in her hand and thought of the living room in Andrea’s parents’ house. The house made for a perfect meeting place as it kept them away from Brandon, whom Tara was still reluctant to fully immerse in the full scope of the truth. It was quiet, had a yard, and was close enough that if they needed them Andrea’s guardians were nearby.  
  
“Andrea?” Miranda looked around the dim living room surprised to find it empty. Andrea had said she would come to the house to cool down, do her homework, and meditate once school was out for the day. Stepping into the kitchen, she called the teenager’s name again, and found emptiness once more. Dismissing the garage through the kitchen as unlikely, Miranda returned to the living room. It was dark outside, but Miranda thought she sensed movement outside.  
  
Her heart beating hard in her chest, Miranda wished she had come armed with more than an extra lighter. The curtains were open, but the sliding glass door was shut. Miranda stepped closer noticing that the locking mechanism had been left unlocked. Uncertain whether more danger was likely inside or out, Miranda approached the door and slid it open. She had picked up movement outside, therefore she would clear the perimeter before checking upstairs. Hearing almost familiar sounds of movement and labored breathing, Miranda froze with her hand on the screen door. Recognizing work out sounds at last, Miranda flipped the porch light switch before she slid the screen open and looked out on the back patio of the house.  
  
“What are you doing?” Miranda pulled both of the doors closed behind her as her eyes tracked Andrea’s movements through the katas she had assigned Andrea to practice when she had time within her busy schedule. She knew that for Andrea, like herself, the repeated motions helped to shift focus and perspective when dealing with stress. She wondered how long Andrea had been working out and if she had eaten or taken any other breaks. Realizing that her presence and words had not broken the distant focus of the sweaty girl’s motions, Miranda crossed the patio to stand exactly where Andrea would finish the next section of the kata. “Andrea.” She raised her voice slightly as she reached up and took Andrea’s hands in her own to pull her focus to the present and the presence of her guide.  
  
Breathing hard, Andrea blinked her dark chocolate brown eyes and visibly returned to the present moment. “You’re here.” The gratitude and want in those dark eyes stirred something in Miranda and she pulled Andrea to her in a fierce hug. “I did my homework.” Andrea breathed against Miranda’s shoulder knowing that the other woman would want the details first. “But I couldn’t shake it. I couldn’t shake it.” Andrea shivered as her body cooled down in the evening air around them now that she had stopped moving. “I’m sorry I called, but I couldn’t shake it.”  
  
Miranda pulled back to look into the young woman’s eyes. “I am here now, Andrea. I am here.” Her words were quiet and soothing, Miranda saw the effect they had on the teen in an instant. “You’ve been out here since you finished your homework?” Miranda clarified, knowing that would answer her ‘ _how long_ ’ question as well as her ‘ _have you eaten or taken a break_ ’ question.  
  
Nodding, Andrea shivered again, her clothes drenched in rapidly cooling sweat. “At first I tried to just still myself like you’ve tried to get me to do all those times, but I just kept feeling it and so I started to practice the katas.” Miranda shifted so that she stood next to Andrea and with a guiding arm around her back, she moved them toward the patio doors. “Figured I could at least do my assignment, even if I can’t master that mediation stuff.”  
  
Sliding open both doors, Miranda ushered the youngster inside as she reassured her. “Your form looked perfect, even if you looked a little crazed, my dear.” Looking around, Miranda shook her head. “We need to keep some food here, at least energy bars or something.” Glancing at Andrea from head to toe, she added, “And some fresh clothes too.”  
  
Rubbing her bicep, Andrea asked, “Why?” When her stomach answered for her with a hearty grumble, she blushed furiously and held onto her stomach. “Oh, I see what you mean.” Trying to figure out what Miranda was planning, Andrea figured that she was cold, probably stinky, and now obviously hungry. The older woman was likely trying to figure out how to take care of her without going anywhere. Instinctively she knew that Miranda was trying to accommodate her wish for privacy by not calling Tara or returning to that home at once. “Mostly everything is in the house from when my parents were killed.” Andrea swallowed after that word, still finding Tara’s story of what really happened to them disconcerting. “I could shower upstairs to get warm and then borrow some of my mother’s clothes.”  
  
Miranda’s blue eyes wavered with stormy emotions as she looked up at Andrea. The young woman seemed to come more and more into her own every time they met. “I can bring food from my house, if you will be okay for just a while.”  
  
Her heart filling at the care and concern radiating off the other woman made Andrea’s smile even brighter than usual. “With this long hair, I take a while in the shower. I’m sure that I’ll be fine here until you come back.”  
  
Relieved that Andrea had been able to help find a solution, since it meant she would be all right, Miranda nodded. “Will going through her clothes be upsetting after such a long day, Andrea?”  
  
Sadly smiling at that, the young brunette murmured. “I’ve been through their things often enough over the years that it does not make missing them any worse.”  
  
Pulling one of the lighters from her pocket, Miranda hummed a moment. “Then I will see you back down here.” Their eyes locked on each other for a moment and then with a flick, Miranda looked away and was gone.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
The plate of lasagna half gone, Andrea looked at ease once again, even if she looked a little tired. “What happened?” Her question was simple, but Andrea knew what the other words would have been.  
  
Taking another bite, Andrea savored it on her tongue before chewing. Setting her fork down, she pushed the plate away. “I’ve been dreaming of flying for weeks now.” Her mind thinking back to the last class of the day, Andrea shook as sensation filled her body again. “In biology we watched a video about birds and I felt like I wanted to fly more than anything else in the world. My back felt like it was on fire, but I couldn’t reach it, couldn’t soothe it. It freaked me out.”  
  
Miranda breathed slowly in and out as she tried to order her thoughts. It had been so long since she had first unfurled her wings. It was strange to think about it now, and even more odd to think about how to guide someone else into what many individuals experienced first as solo self-discovery. “Andrea, why didn’t you talk to your aunt?”  
  
Looking at the table, Andrea frowned, “I wanted to talk to you. You’re the one I talk to.” Tears welled in her brown eyes and Miranda ached to comfort her. “Aunt Tara still doesn’t seem to know what to say to me about everything.” Sniffing, Andrea wiped at her eyes and looked up at Miranda defiantly, “I chose you, alright. Don’t get all whatever about it.” She huffed and waved her hand up in the air.  
  
Standing, Miranda finished her glass of water and set it down. The she pointed to Andrea’s plate. “All done?” When the girl nodded, Miranda looked into the living room and seemed to come to a decision. “Do the dishes and meet me in the living room.” Turning on her heel, Miranda stalked away from the table effectively ending the discussion.  
  
Grabbing the plate and glasses, Andrea rolled her eyes. ‘ _I wanted her to not get all weird and I guess moving on with no explanation would fit the bill_.’ Shaking her head at the older woman, Andrea ran the water to get it hot and then grabbed the sponge.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Stepping into the living room, Andrea’s jaw dropped. Every light in the room was on making it the brightest it could possibly be. The couch, end tables, and other pieces of furniture had been shifted to the outside edges of the room to create a large area in the middle of the room. The closed curtains ensured that no curious neighbors could find out more than they should about the person Andrea Sachs was becoming.  
  
Miranda sat on the coffee table with her hands on her thighs. Her folded blouse rested on one of the end tables and her shoulders were bare except for the straps of her bra and the camisole that covered her modesty. Averting her eyes from those stormy blue ones Miranda had focused on her, Andrea let her eyes scan the rest of her companion. Andrea’s jaw dropped as she realized the woman was barefoot. Somehow this seemed more of a shock than the camisole and Andrea smiled at her own idiosyncrasy.  
  
“Coming of age is different for every person.” Miranda started strong and then stopped uncertainly. Standing up she moved into the center of the room. Clearing her throat to get herself started again, Miranda offered, “Many people find things out on their own through anger or during an emergency—powers assert themselves and only later does the person realize—”  
  
It was uncertain how long Miranda would have stumbled along, but Andrea put her out of her misery. “Stop. Just stop.” Andrea stepped fully into the open area that could have doubled for a dance space. Idly she wondered if Miranda could dance. Then refocusing on the present moment, she took Miranda’s hands in her own. “This shouldn’t be all awkward. I’m sure of it.” Andrea smiled at her companion and squeezed her hands. “I don’t want to be all stilted with you.” She moved her head to fully catch Miranda’s blue eyes with her own. “You always have something to show me and I’m guessing this is no different.” Seeing Miranda visibly relax, Andrea continued on with her suppositions in an effort to move past this tension between them. It wasn’t exactly bad tension, but it was new and Andrea wanted to focus on why she called Miranda in the first place. Dropping her hands, Andrea smiled. “I called you because my back was on fire and I can’t stop thinking about flying.” Motioning at Miranda, she commanded, “So what were you going to show me?”  
  
Thankful for the young woman’s plucky spirit and easy ability to call a situation as she saw it and move past the awkwardness, Miranda nodded feeling more certain of her initial plan again. “I think your wings are trying to manifest, so I thought I would show you mine.”  
  
Andrea crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve seen your wings, Miranda.”  
  
Turning her back to the teenager, Miranda offered over her shoulder. “You have seen me with wings and without. You have seen the wings appear and disappear. However the appearance of wings is quite different from that. Rather like seeing a bird in flight or at rest, but never watching the actual takeoff or landing.”  
  
Her eyes traveling over the bare curve of Miranda’s neck and shoulders, as well as the smooth plane of her upper back, Andrea felt her fingers tingling. She realized that Miranda was going to let her see how the wings burst through the skin, formed, and then settled in place. “Oh.” She murmured as she unknowingly stepped closer.  
  
“The first several times hurt or perhaps surprise, then with use or practice the appearance and disappearance of your wings become like using your arms or legs.” Miranda turned back to look more properly at Andrea. “I think the first time you should watch from there, then if you would like, you can stand here by my shoulder.” When Andrea murmured her assent, Miranda breathed deeply and then willed her wings to appear as slowly as she could.  
  
Her eyes dancing with delight, Andrea found it difficult to focus on any one thing even as she followed the rise and downward curve of the structure of the wing, her eyes flittered over the filling wings and feathers, and finally over to the smooth back and regal shoulders of the woman sharing this with her. “You’re right. It is different to pay attention, instead of just watching from the front as the wings just sort of become visible.”  
  
Turning to face Andrea, Miranda felt the air sweep through her wings as she moved. If her understanding was correct then perhaps Andrea would be ready to fly the next time they met. “At first your balance will be off. I do remember that.” Miranda smiled and then lifted her arms out to her sides and then up over her head. Her wings followed her motions giving her a posed beauty that Andrea could not deny. “Moving the wings, once you get them, is sometimes made easier by thinking in terms of copying your arms.” Letting her wings slowly fold down to their resting position, Miranda smiled with her arms still above her head. “With practice you will be able to move them independently.”  
  
Andrea stepped closer, her eyes flittering from Miranda’s wings to her bare shoulders. “My back hurts again.” She whispered as she came even closer. “My fingers tingle and I want to touch.”  
  
Holding her hand up to halt Andrea’s progress, Miranda turned around to hide the blush on her cheeks. “If you are gentle then you can let your palms rest along the wings as I let them return to their place within.” Holding her breath against the whisper light touch of Andrea’s fingers, Miranda focused her mind on her task. The heat of Andrea’s fingers on her bare skin caused Miranda close her eyes and breathe deeply.  
  
“There’s no mark.” Andrea whispered as she traced her fingers over the bare skin.  
  
Clearing her throat, Miranda offered, “Stand close to my shoulder so you can look at the wing spots as it happens.” Andrea shifted her positioning and once again Miranda focused on the appearance of her wings. After a few seconds, Miranda retracted her wings again and stepped away from the teenager.  
  
“It hurts a bit at first, but leaves no scar marks and doesn’t damage your clothes.” Andrea bobbed her head as she considered the lesson aspect of this demonstration.  
  
Slipping her blouse on, but leaving it open for the time being, Miranda agreed, “Yes, I thought you would be more concerned with your skin than your clothes.” Miranda’s blue eyes twinkled with their on-going back and forth teasing discussion of Miranda being a fashion icon while Andrea was happy in her ripped jeans, tank tops, and Converse.  
  
“Yeah. Since my back has been on fire off and on for the last several hours and I know you would never risk your fancy suits, you’re right my skin was higher on my list.” Andrea chuckled at the teasing that they had been able to develop over the last few months. It helped when things got serious or intense between them. Rubbing her palms together, Andrea uncertainly wondered, “So you think my wings are trying to get out or whatever?”  
  
Miranda hooked her thumbs in the corners of her trouser pockets. “I do.”  
  
The two words were neither helpful nor comforting. Andrea raised an eyebrow at her mentor in a gesture that she had picked up from the older woman. “So what now?”  
  
Knowing that this was as frustrating by turns as it was awkward, Miranda smirked. “Imagine you have wings.”  
  
Stamping her foot, Andrea grunted her displeasure at that. “You’re supposed to help.”  
  
Miranda crossed her arms and fixed Andrea with a look. “Am I supposed to pull the wings out of you like a rabbit from a hat?”  
  
Tapping her foot now and crossing her arms in a mirror of her mentor, Andrea whined. “You made Aunt Tara show her wings.”  
  
Frowning at the thought, Miranda shrugged. “I did, but I would not recommend that, since it would not teach you how to call your wings forth on your own.” Smirking at Andrea’s disappointment, Miranda chided the teen, “I cannot always be around to pull your wings for you, nor would you want me to always be hanging around anyway like some kind of chaperone.”  
  
Laughing at this image, Andrea shook her head. “Oh my god. You’d scare my friends.” The scratching her head, Andrea pondered, “Still, it’s not like I need my wings on a regular basis, only when you’d be around so, why not?”  
  
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Miranda refused to look up at the teen and reveal her amusement. The younger woman was stalling now and it amused her to see her so ruffled. “You’re impossible.” Miranda let out a sigh of the long suffering. “Perhaps you aren’t ready anyway.” She began buttoning her blouse and stepping over to her almost forgotten heels in the corner as if their time had ended.  
  
“No, Miranda. Please don’t go.” Andrea rushed over and pulled her hands away from the buttons. When the older woman focused on her once again, the brunette winced. “So, I just, um, I imagine having wings.”  
  
Taking the girl’s hands in her own, Miranda backed her into the center of the room. “Imagine your wings growing from your shoulders like you saw mine. Imagine the feeling of them stretching and growing into their full shape.” Andrea nodded at her and Miranda rubbed her thumbs over the back of her hands. “It will hurt, but I will be right here, Andrea.” Her blue eyes stayed steady on Andrea’s brown orbs and she let the younger woman hover there taking in the strength of her support for several moments.  
  
Andrea closed her eyes and hunched her shoulders forward. She breathed in and out slowly while she tried to still her mind. Miranda held her breath in anticipation. With a sudden gasp, Andrea’s mouth fell open and her eyes tracked full of pain on Miranda’s. From her back the spine of the deep brown wings sprouted and began to unfurl fully. Andrea squeezed Miranda’s hands as tears filled her eyes. Without her knowledge she pulled them both down to their knees as her body adjusted to the sudden change of her new appendages.  
  
Breathing hard, Andrea blinked several times in amazement and euphoria. “Amazing.”  
  
Her face was flushed, her pupils dilated, and her breathing had been reduced to heavy panting—Miranda swallowed hard as she rubbed her thumbs over the girl’s hands. “Indeed.” Miranda could do little beyond agree at that moment.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Practice had been interspersed with breaks for water and updates on each other’s daily lives. Andrea passed her driver’s test the second time she tried, but her aunt and uncle said that they wouldn’t even consider getting her a car until the summer. Miranda complained about the staff members whom she danced an uneasy dance with as she waited for them to quit. The older woman had frowned when Andrea expressed her surprise, “Why don’t you just fire them?”  
  
Tilting her head to look at the younger woman, Miranda had quietly asked, “What makes you say that?”  
  
Shrugging and hoping that Miranda would let it go, Andrea waited for several seconds in silence. When she reluctantly looked up, she knew from Miranda’s expression that she needed to be up front and honest or their dynamic would be forever stilted. “It’s just that Aunt Tara has told me a couple of things about you from when she knew you among the people. I think her words were, ‘ _Miranda doesn’t suffer fools_.’ You’re the editor at Runway so why wait for anyone to quit?” It was clear from Andrea’s tone and facial expression that she meant no harm. The younger woman clearly looked up to and respected Miranda.  
  
“A person always has more than one side, Andrea.” Miranda made sure to keep her tone warm instead of slipping into the persona she used to bend others to her will. “I do not  _suffer fools_  as your aunt says and the press has been pretty clear about how I deal with them. Yet that doesn’t mean I wish to fire or harm others just for the sake of doing so. A wartime situation might warrant swiftly dealt consequences; however I have found that in real life a person unsuccessful in one situation might thrive in another place. I did not know your aunt well and it was a time of great unrest for the people.”  
  
Thinking on those words, Andrea smiled at the white haired woman. She knew that her time with Miranda was precious for a variety of reasons. She reveled in the fact that the woman was different with her than probably anyone else in her life. With no words said to transition, they simply resumed working on wing movements. By the time their session was drawing to a close, Andrea had been able to raise and lower her wings with Miranda directing her and using her arms to mimic what she wanted. It had been invigorating. The pain and shock was less with each time she unfurled her wings and willed them away again. Putting the furniture back in place, they had settled at the table to discuss future plans.  
  
“Don’t try your wings again for a few days and make sure you have plenty of room or you’ll knock things about and maybe damage your feathers.” Miranda had cautioned her against being too eager. “This is like that first workout of a sporting season where you will feel the burn of unused muscles for a while. I’d suggest a hot shower when you get home and if you can manage it again in the morning.”  
  
Andrea took a sip of her water before replying. “Good idea. Oh, wait, no, I can’t in the morning. I have zero period with Natalia.”  
  
At the sudden name-dropping, Miranda sat forward on her chair. “Natalia, hmm?”  
  
Lay smile spreading across her face as she thought of the other girl, Andrea nodded. “Yeah.” The word wasn’t properly dreamy or excited, but it did hold a note of fondness that Miranda was careful not to react to. “Did I tell you? She’s asked me to prom.”  
  
Miranda carefully drank from her glass and cursed herself all over again. “No, you hadn’t told me. Is it that time of year already?” She hoped that her question would keep the conversation going, even if it should be obvious that a figure in fashion would always know when prom season occurred.  
  
“It’s not for a few months, but I’m excited because you’re, like, supposed to have a date and everything.” Andrea seemed truly glad to have this task off of her to do list. “I had no idea who to even ask. It’s not like I even like anyone yet. Is that unusual?” Andrea babbled on more to herself than Miranda as she thought about it. “So it’s nice that I can go with her and just focus on school work and learning with you, instead of that foolishness.”  
  
Relieved that Andrea had not found a hot and heavy romance that she would need to seek her guidance about, Miranda settled back into her chair once again. Andrea’s words, ‘ _Focus on school work…_ ’ echoed in her head with Nigel’s earlier advice to her to, ‘ _Focus on work and being there for her_.’  
  
“Will you help me choose a dress, Miranda?” Andrea had stopped her chattering and focused on her companion once again. “If I’m going to this thing, I better at least try, right? I can’t go in my Converse.”  
  
The smile that Andrea flashed at her made all of her other concerns float away. Nigel was right—Miranda would focus on being there for her. Her mind already thinking of designs, she knew it was what she wanted in any case.

 

 

...


	3. Fast Forward?

_**Chosen by Fire. Part 3/7.**_  
  
 _Junior Prom came and went in a blur. Begrudgingly, Miranda admitted that everything Andrea told her about Natalia made her an acceptable paramour for Andrea. The fact that had finally allowed Miranda some peace had been that the girl had tried for nothing more than hand holding and kissing after the long night of dancing.  
  
Miranda had been able to distract herself with Runway as much as possible and when sleep refused to settle her, she practiced her katas. It wouldn’t do for the student to best the teacher when they had so much more time before them. For appearances sake, she engaged in an affair of publicity with a colleague from her attorney’s firm. They were equally career driven women, not interested in dating for a variety of purposes, and willing to accept the other as they were.  
  
Before they realized it the summer humidity and heat was upon them. Andrea’s summer job combined with her aunt and uncle’s support enabled her to purchase a used red Honda civic with a primer grey fender on the driver’s side, a dented back bumper and a lot of scrapes in the paint. Andrea loved it. She said it was like her favorite jeans.  
  
The fall cooled the air and kicked both of them into high gear as Andrea started her senior year and Miranda prepared for another round of fashion weeks. The demands on their time were high, but they were always able to meet often enough to nourish their connection and so that Andrea could get her questions answered about their people or her powers.  
  
Andrea spent her 17th birthday with Miranda. This time she didn’t faint or inadvertently wish herself away on the candle. Since they were in New York, Miranda had offered to share her favorite aspect of city living with the teenager as a special treat._  
  
***  
  
“Why are we in your office again? You said you wanted to do something cool for my birthday.” Andrea looked around the office noting small changes and smiling at things that had stayed the same. “It’s not like you’re even terrorizing your minions, so how is this cool?”  
  
Looking out the window into the darkness of the New York night, Miranda internally rolled her eyes, ‘ _Teenagers always had to test the limits, ask for more, and generally be annoying_.’ Clenching her jaw against the scathing remark she wanted to blast the youngster with, Miranda narrowed her eyes at her. ‘ _Why had the fire chosen her again?_ ’ She knew it wasn’t for her patience or her nurturing. Stepping into Andrea’s personal space, Miranda wondered, ‘ _How does one even get from teen to adult? It’s not like there’s a magical day where someone crosses that line_.’ Just when Andrea seemed to realize that Miranda had invaded her space so thoroughly that she stepped back in a bit of a shock, Miranda internally commanded herself to be invisible and stopped her forward movement. Knowing that Andrea would only take a second to realize Miranda hadn’t fire travelled, the older woman took a few steps back.  
  
“Where did you go?” Andrea hissed as she stepped forward and swung her arms out and around in a big circle.  
  
Glad the girl had stopped whining, Miranda darted in close and tapped the teenager on the shoulder. Ducking quickly to avoid a reflexive slap, Miranda backed away fighting a giggle. Andrea growled and looked around hoping to catch some kind of clue to what game they were playing. After a few more playful taps, the youngster was thoroughly frustrated and dropped into a defensive stance from their hand-to-hand combat training. “What was the point of this little exercise?” Miranda had revealed herself through her voice and by the time Andrea had turned to zero in on the location, the older woman was sitting cross-legged on the couch in the corner of her office.  
  
“We can be invisible, yet still be felt.” Andrea quickly answered as she stood at attention in the middle of the office.  
  
Nodding at this answer, Miranda stood. “If you make a noise while invisible, then you will also be heard.”  
  
Andrea frowned at this response. “I didn’t hear you moving around.”  
  
Waving her hand in dismissal, Miranda assured her, “That comes with experience and you will be working on being stealthy in the next year.” Stepping into conversational distance, Miranda explained, “I probably should have gone into this from a defense point of view quite some time ago. I apologize. I only thought of it now because we are going to fly over New York at night.” Miranda waved out the window to the darkness surrounding them. “It is one of my favorite things to do.”  
  
Andrea turned to look out the window wondering if they were just going to open the glass or what. Stepping closer to it, she thought of disappearing in the darkness. Her mind wandered to the idea of needing the invisibility as a defense. “You’ve mentioned warring factions in our people before—great battles and ambushes.” Andrea introduced her thought and then had to swallow as the more personal words formed on her tongue. “Is that what happened to my parents?” Turning to look at Miranda standing beside her, Andrea wished the thought hadn’t brought on the tears. “I mean no one remembers seeing anyone.”  
  
Not wanting to see the brunette cry, Miranda looked into their dark view, but she did stand close enough for their shoulders to touch. “I did not mean to remind you of your loss this evening, Andrea.” Taking the youngster’s hand in her own, Miranda squeezed. “I can ask among my contacts to find out if any attacks or skirmishes were recorded in the vicinity at the time.”  
  
Wiping at her eyes with her free hand, Andrea took a few moments to gather her words. “I’d appreciate knowing more if there’s anything to tell.” Moving to look at the older woman, Andrea pulled her hand to turn her properly. “Thanks.”  
  
Dropping their joined hands, Miranda reached up and smoothed the tear tracks with both of her thumbs. “Now, do you want to fly?”  
  
Nodding, Andrea thought that would be a good distraction. She loved the feeling of the cold air against her skin. “You gotta teach me the invisibility thing, right?”  
  
***  
  
Andrea looked around the rooftop wondering if there would be a tennis court, herb garden, or really anything except for the various access points to the stairs, and the occasional piping or air-conditioning units. It was disappointingly industrial, so Andrea turned to face Miranda again. “Why here and not the Empire State Building or The Rock? I mean they’re taller and closer to Central Park.”  
  
Miranda sighed again, but the small smile at the corners of her mouth gave away her amusement this time. “First of all, I know that no one is on this rooftop. Second, I know that there are no security cameras. After this many years in New York, this industry and this building, I’ve made sure of a few things.”  
  
Andrea shrugged and revealed her wings in preparation of their flight. “We could just have arrived invisible.”  
  
Walking over to the edge of the roof, Miranda kept her wings hidden. Motioning for Andrea to join her at the edge, she waited for the youngster to follow. Careful of the teenager’s wings, Miranda tucked in close to the girl’s side. “You ready to just fly right over the edge here?” Miranda’s tone was daring, but her arm on the youngster’s waist was insistent. She’d never completely push Andrea and even if she did, she’d fly out to catch her visible or not. That didn’t do anything to take away Andrea’s caution, which was the older woman’s point after all. “I wanted to be sure you were ready before we went invisibly to any other taller buildings with less security for us.”  
  
A little sheepish at her arrogance, Andrea was glad when Miranda stepped away from the edge and allowed her to re-group as well. “It just seemed like if the point was to fly over New York that you’d want the most height.”  
  
The blush on the teenager’s cheeks was adorable, but Miranda just shrugged. “We can always fly higher or lower. Part of the thrill is of course the view from above, but it is wonderful to descend and hover just above all the hustle and bustle with no one the wiser.”  
  
Nodding, Andrea allowed, “Yeah, I could see that.” Shrugging in her uncertainty, she asked, “What now? We get invisible and then fly?”  
  
Shaking her head, Miranda unfurled her wings. “I thought that we’d take flight, circle the building once, and land. Then if you were feeling up to it we would go invisible and wind our way down and around—flying over the brightness of Times Square and then landing in Central Park near the Bethesda Fountain.”  
  
Smiling at that, Andrea clapped her hands together. “Oh, that’s the one with the Angel that I liked, right?” Andrea had only been to New York a handful of times, but every time she visited Miranda, she had made her go to the Bethesda Fountain at least once.  
  
“Yes, at this time of night it will be fairly empty. I’ll trust your judgment to appear away from others if you need to, but I’ll expect you to be near the fountain quickly.” Miranda hoped that she was thinking this through carefully enough. Andrea was a senior in high school, but she was still 17 and in Miranda’s care.  
  
“How will I know you’ve landed?” Andrea wanted to make sure they didn’t get separated. Of course she had her lighter and even a candle in her cargo pocket, but she didn’t want to have to end her night early and go home just because she hadn’t been able to keep up with the older woman.  
  
Waving off the top of the building, Miranda assured her. “We can talk, or shout at this height and get used to flying together even while invisible. When we get closer down, then we’ll have to be more careful, but still we can communicate enough to agree on landing.” Glad that the girl was thinking of practicalities, Miranda felt better about her grand plan.  
  
***  
  
Miranda stepped up onto the edging of the wall that ringed around the entire roof and kept it from being just a simple step right off the edge. Andrea saw the wind blowing Miranda’s signature hair lightly. The look on her face was peaceful and excited as she prepared to fly. Her white wings fluttered in their folded position on her back, just waiting for the command to take that final step and those wings to spread themselves and fly. Several feet away, Andrea stepped up onto the wall so that their wings wouldn’t brush too hard against each other as they first took flight. Miranda turned and nodded at Andrea, then she stepped off and fluttered her wings as she swooped down so that she could curl back around.  
  
Andrea lifted her foot, fluttered her wings, and on the next gust she nearly lost her balance. With a shriek she righted herself with her wings out for balance, her body bent to stop a fall, and her heart pounding in her chest.  
  
Hearing the girl’s frightened cry behind her, Miranda quickly completed her arc so that she fluttered in place in front of the teenager. “Andrea?” Her voice purred the name as a caress of concern and care.  
  
The brunette shivered where she stood, her heart still wild, even as she relaxed her body to stand fully. “I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry.” Andrea swallowed hard on her apology not wanting to disappoint the woman who had come to mean so much to her over the course of the last year. “I caught a gust at the last minute and just couldn’t do it.”  
  
Adjusting her wings slightly, Miranda pressed just the tip of her toes on the edge wall of the roof. Her blue eyes took in the glowing golden hue of Andrea’s dark eyes filled with turbulent emotions. Breathing in deep, the older woman caressed Andrea’s cheek. “Shhh. Andrea. You got spooked, that’s all.” Miranda knew that the youngster would focus on her voice, so she made sure to keep her tone even and her eyes looking into the younger woman’s as she worked her way through the emotions. “Remember that time I took you to Canada?” The brunette nodded and Miranda smiled at her. “It was so cold and you were afraid to jump off the roof, but we got through it. Remember?”  
  
Flexing her hands at the cold memory, Andrea bit out a sharp laugh. “I can’t believe you took us to those remote fishing shacks.”  
  
Waving her hand off to the side in dismissal, Miranda replied with a sniff. “I knew no one was there.”  
  
Resting one palm on her hip, Andrea asked her a question she’d never gotten around to asking. “How did you even have that as one of your firetravel places? Seriously, when has Miranda Priestly, fashion champion, ever gone ice fishing in a Canadian Shack?”  
  
Taking Andrea’s free hand in her own, Miranda smirked. “It’s a very long story, let’s save it for sometime when you have a fever and can’t go anywhere.” Reaching for Andrea’s other hand, Miranda smiled when the young woman easily let her hold both of their hands in the scant space between their chests. “Do you trust me, Andrea?”  
  
Shaking her head side to side, Andrea followed up her gesture with the verbal, “No.” Licking her lips, the teen added, “You let me get frostbite.”  
  
Fluttering backward, Miranda let her legs slip from the edge of the wall. She pulled Andrea forward so that she stood posed for takeoff. Rubbing her thumbs over the back of Andrea’s fingers, Miranda pouted, “Oh, that was nothing a little hot soak didn’t take care of, now was it?”  
  
As if following the power of Miranda’s mind, the brunette’s wings began to flutter where she stood until her feet left the solid surface below her. “Miranda?” Her voice was quiet and small sounding, yet she kept even with Miranda as they hovered just over the edge of the rooftop looking into each other’s eyes.  
  
“I wonder if I put a sound system up here, could we hold a dance?” Miranda’s eyes sparkled with mischief, though she kept them steady where they were, because she knew that Andrea needed the time to feel for herself what they were doing. The thought of pulling the younger woman closer to her and spinning her around in time with a waltz gave her another thought to lock away for later. “If the people were as numerous as humans, then we could have a flying prom up here above the rooftops. Can you just imagine, Andrea?”  
  
Warming to the topic at hand, Andrea smiled. “Would you wear a gown, Miranda?”  
  
Shaking her head at that, Miranda was amused at the instant disappointment washing over the teenager’s features. “Down there I wear gowns practically every day.” Squeezing the brunette’s hands in hers, Miranda closed her eyes as she imagined her next words. “Up here in the sky, I would wear a tuxedo, I should think.”  
  
Imagining the other woman, Andrea smiled widely. “A white tux to go with your white wings.”  
  
Opening her eyes again, Miranda caught the thoughtful look of the younger woman and bowed her head. “As the lady commands.” A particular wind rose up from below to end their moment, moving on with grace, Miranda asked, “May I show you the town?”  
  
After her nod, Andrea felt them move again and she knew that they were facing each other holding hands out in the middle of the space between the Elias-Clark building and the next skyscraper. “Can we stay like this?”  
  
Carefully, Miranda spread their hands wider and then she released one of Andrea’s so that she could hover just lower than Andrea, yet still keep the connection that was keeping the youngster tethered. “I think you’ll find the trip much easier next to me.” Letting go after several seconds, Miranda offered in her usual way, a challenge as well as a way out if needed. “Let’s go around the building once and then assess. At that point you can either land and call it a night, or we can go invisible and head out over the town.”  
  
***  
  
Over the course of the year, Andrea had stumbled at the outset of a task more than once. However, the times she had given up or actually taken the temporary out had been few and far between. In most cases, that night included, the youngster had simply dug deep and found the fortitude to push herself onward—higher or harder, faster or with more dexterity—their warm up lap concluded, Miranda had hovered once again to take in Andrea’s frame of mind only to be pleasantly surprised by the beaming smile on the teen’s face. “I’m ready.” She had shouted gleefully at her mentor.  
  
“Invisible.” Miranda had held up a warning finger to remind her as she sent the mental command to herself and winked out of sight. Andrea copied her and seconds later the older woman was commanding, “We’ll go around the block to Times Square, then down Broadway to the Empire State building. Stay invisible and we can land in the viewing area, okay?”  
  
Andrea liked the idea of a break because she knew her face was going to get cold. Of course a hot soak would take care of it, but she still liked to give Miranda a hard time about Canada. “Then all the way up 5th Avenue to Central Park, right?” Even invisible it was clear that Andrea was smiling. “Can we go all the way up Central Park and then back to land at the Fountain?”  
  
Glad that the youngster had warmed to the idea of their trip, Miranda teased back, “As long as your nose isn’t too cold, dear. Let me know as we go, alright.”  
  
Hitting her chest as if Miranda had wounded her, Andrea laughed. “You wound me.” They both laughed together for a few moments and then Andrea breathed back into her control and urged, “Let’s go. I want to see all the lights.”  
  
***  
  
With a group of tourists lingering near the fountain, Miranda flew further off in order to land. Hiding her wings while still invisible, she murmured the command to return to visibility in a hurry. She wanted to get to the fountain so that Andrea would be able to find her easily. They had been able to converse just enough throughout their trip to keep her worries at bay. Now that they were landing at night in the middle of Central park, her worries had returned. Coming down to where the fountain was, Miranda cast her eyes about for her young charge as well as assessing the possible danger of any others.  
  
“Thank you, Miranda.” A warm body crashed into Miranda from behind instantly doubling her heart rate, even while she knew from her assailant’s voice that it was a friend and not a foe.  
  
“Andrea!” The older woman’s tone of outrage was belied by the amused shaking of her head and the gentle hold she had on the hands around her middle.  
  
“That was amazing. I hope that I can do that again sometime.” Andrea sounded full of bliss and wistful longing at the same time. It had been the same way at the end of a very long sight-seeing day her first time coming to New York in the daylight nearly six months ago.  
  
Turning around in the circle of Andrea’s arms, Miranda pressed her cold nose into Andrea’s cheek. “Happy birthday, Andrea.” She whispered out before spinning away. “There’s hot chocolate at my house and if you’re really lucky there’s even a cupcake with your name on it.”  
  
Holding her fingers to her cheek, Andrea watched Miranda speed away from her in wonder.  
  
***  
  
Tara hadn’t been waiting up for them, exactly, she had just been passing by the front door every ten minutes or so the closer it got to Andrea’s curfew of midnight. Knowing how ferocious Miranda could be from stories told within the people, Tara knew that nothing would happen to Andrea. However, that logic didn’t stop her from fretting slightly whenever Andrea was away from them, and especially not when she was out of state and creeping towards curfew. At least it wasn’t a school night, Tara could take comfort in that fact. She also found it amusing that this birthday she knew exactly where Andrea was and who she was with, while the previous birthday the youngster had accidentally wished herself away on the light of a candle and changed all of their worlds.  
  
“Did you have a good time?” Her voice happy, Tara raked her eyes over both women as they greeted her on the front doorstep. Both seemed to have a quiet wonder about them that brought a smile to the silvery brunette’s face.  
  
“Did we ever?” Andrea exclaimed as she greeted her aunt with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Best birthday ever.” She continued to rave as she stepped into the house. “Come on, Miranda, you have to help me tell the tale.”  
  
Tara caught the look on Miranda’s face—it was a look that indicated time spent together was cherished, but provided certain difficulties if overdosed on. Tara could understand the sentiment, even if she couldn’t relate to the specifics of the situation. “It’s nice to see her so excited.” Tara murmured as she reached out and clasped Miranda’s hand, hoping that she could imbue the gesture with her understanding, respect, and thanks all in one.  
  
***  
  
Eventually Andrea had wound down from her adrenalin high and with hugs to both older women, she headed upstairs to her bedroom. Tara had opened a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of amber liquid once she was certain the younger woman was in her room. “How about a little one?”  
  
Finishing her water in two swallows, Miranda tilted the glass at her. “Only a little.” She cautioned the woman against over pouring. They hadn’t become friends over the last twelve months; however they had formed a relatively easy truce. “Andrea asked me to find out more about what happened to her parents.” Miranda sighed. She didn’t want to keep secrets from Andrea’s guardian, but that didn’t make speaking about difficult topics any easier. “I taught her about being invisible, so that we could make our little adventure possible and mentioned the more practical applications.”  
  
Tara set the bottle down on the counter and slid onto the other stool. “She always was a smart girl. If she had known about her heritage then, she never would have stopped her inquiries.”  
  
Miranda stared at her for many long moments. “In that sense, then I am glad she didn’t know as well. It would not have done for her to have to deal with knowing a slice of the truth and then being forced into denial with you.”  
  
Letting the sip of alcohol burn its way down her throat, Tara admitted to herself that she deserved the jab. She would have either had to come clean and level with Andrea or convince her that she was crazy. The damage once she realized the truth would have been insurmountable. Even now it haunted them from time to time. “I couldn’t do what you do, Miranda.” The words were easy enough to admit; however, the truth of them weighed heavy.  
  
Savoring her sip, Miranda set her glass on the counter. “I can’t say I understand, Tara. What is supposed to happen?” Miranda looked around the kitchen as if looking for a recipe that would combine all the ingredients of their puzzle into a masterpiece. “Am I to be her tutor forever?”  
  
Tara sighed as she tried to put her thoughts together on this subject. “I wouldn’t think so. You’d both hate that eventually.” Tara laughed as she tried to imagine the pair of them arguing twenty years into the future. “Are you attracted to her? How has the bond affected you?” Her curiosity winning, Tara was more open with her words.  
  
“I won’t deny that she’s beautiful, but I still find the teenage theatrics annoying.” Miranda smirked as Tara’s jaw dropped. “My feelings aren’t clear into the future, but I do know that Andrea is there in my life in an important way. I’m not sure if that means the bond will morph into something else or just shift into that of close equals.”  
  
Resting her hand on Miranda’s, the older brunette sighed. “I know you don’t have much choice in the matter, but I appreciate that you’ve been able to be there for Andrea as she figures things out.”  
  
With a twist of her hand, Miranda clasped Tara’s hand in her own for a few seconds before pulling away. “That’s all I can do—be there for her.”  
  
Following as Miranda headed for the front door, Tara offered, “Prom is in another few months. She’ll want you to dress her again.”  
  
Turning just before the door, Miranda quietly asked, “Natalia again?”  
  
Checking the front porch light, Tara shrugged, “She’s a good kid, but I promise not to let her wear those doc martens under her dress again this year.”  
  
Feeling uncertain, Miranda offered, “Maybe I could dress the both of them? I could send Nigel down to play fairy god-father or whatever. He’d love it.”  
  
Sighing and forcing a smile, Tara pushed, “You know she’ll want you there this year. Nigel could be dress-up king, but you’ll need to be here to send them off.”  
  
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Miranda knew the truth of it. “Are they still going to Northwestern next year?”  
  
Tara tucked her hands in her back pockets. “That’s the current plan. You know maybe that will be the separation that the two of you need? Maybe like Sleeping Beauty and Snow White, you will need to meet each other in a different way kind of thing?”  
  
Unwilling to entertain that line of thought, Miranda opened the door and slipped out.  
  
“I know that it doesn’t make anything easier for you, Miranda, but I can always tell the difference when Andrea talks about you and when she means Natalia.” Tara nodded at the other woman when she turned piercing blue eyes on her. “The intensity is there when she talks about you, Miranda, even if she doesn’t know what that means.”  
  
Taking in a deep breath, Miranda knew the other woman was trying to be supportive, so she held back any defensive biting comments that she might have otherwise unleashed. “I’m glad she had a happy birthday. Thank you, Tara.” With a quick flick of a lighter the white haired woman was gone.  
  
***  
  
“Just because you yell, ‘ _mush_ ,’ that won’t make them go any faster.” Nigel chided his colleague when the disastrous run through fell apart and the team had to be sent scurrying. “It is not a race, Miranda. It was a run through of outfits and ideas that could be part of this month’s feature.” He stood on the visitor’s side of the desk looking down at her and blinking.  
  
Eventually, she hissed, “I know what this is.”  
  
Relaxing his stance, Nigel slipped into one of the leather chairs. “I’m glad you know what this is. I have been so curious all week watching you breathe fire.” When Miranda glared at him, he pretended to duck away. “No, no, the burn, the burn.” He dared to joke.  
  
Several seconds ticked by in which each tried to understand what had just been said and what had brought them to this point. “I hate you.” Miranda laughed despite herself. “You’d better hope I never work out how to do that, Nigel.” Narrowing her eyes at him once again, Miranda formed her lips into a focusing circle that would direct the flames right at his baldhead.  
  
Rubbing the smooth skin of his crown, Nigel gave a half-hearted chuckle. “It’s been a long week already, Miranda, and it is only Tuesday.” Slipping off his glasses, Nigel rubbed them with his tie and then slid them back on. “What gives?”  
  
Accepting he was right and knowing that she needed to let it out, Miranda breathed deep. “For Andrea’s 17th birthday I brought her here and we flew the city.” At his inquisitive look, she continued on. “She’s still an annoying teenager in so many ways, but it felt like a date, Nigel, a date date.”  
  
Scratching his chin, Nigel grimaced a bit as he finally understood where her mood came from. “You see her in your future, don’t you?” He cupped his chin with his fingers as he crossed his other arm over his chest and tucked it into the bent elbow. “Except you don’t know how in the world to get from here to there.” He looked at her and was unsurprised when her only reply was a slight nod. “Do you think she felt it too?” He tried to ask it as gently as he could, but he knew that either way, Miranda would feel damned.  
  
Pursing her lips and thinking back on their interactions with Tara, the white haired woman observed. “If she felt it that way, then she hasn’t yet registered what it could mean in relation to the two of us.” Miranda thought of the eagerness to share with her aunt and the easy camaraderie among the three of them. “She brought me inside to re-hash the evening’s excitement with her aunt.”  
  
Shrugging, Nigel offered, “Well, it sounds like things will just slowly change between you until one day she just grabs your hand and pulls you in for a kiss.”  
  
Guarding herself against that train of thought, Miranda shook her head, “And what of her girlfriend?” In a quieter tone, she added, “It’s been a year, Nigel.”  
  
Settling back against the cushy leather behind him, Nigel shook his head. “What of your girlfriend? What about Kathleen?”  
  
Rolling her eyes, Miranda dismissed that notion completely. “That’s different.”  
  
Crossing his right leg over his left, Nigel breathed deep as he gathered his words. “I don’t think it is.” When he saw the fire flare in her eyes, he raised a hand to stop her retort. “I think they are both place holder relationships. You said yourself that Natalia is a good girl and hasn’t pushed Andrea beyond kissing.” He widened his eyes to stress his next point, “Even after Prom, you quoted Andrea as saying the girl was ‘ _a perfect gentleman_ ’.”  
  
Closing her eyes at this version of facts, Miranda sighed. “While I have kept Kathleen around but not drawn her in.”  
  
His hand stroking his knee, Nigel pointed to the only thing that they knew for sure and had to trust in, “The fire chose you.” He sighed and added, “That doesn’t mean you don’t want to fast forward through the next several years.”

 

 

...


	4. Figure it Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it for tonight, folks. I'll be back soon :)
> 
> Only 51 more fics to transfer... Only they aren't all one-shots. I guess it is a good problem to have. :)

**_Chosen by Fire. Part 4/7._**  
  
When they talk about meeting at ‘ _the house_ ,’ it was taken for granted that the home that belonged to Andrea’s parents would be the place. Otherwise they would meet at Miranda’s place, occasionally Aunt Tara’s house, or some other location that they both could arrive by fire travel. Getting ready to head out to Chicago, Andrea had arrived early to look around at the things left behind. It seemed like such a long time ago that she had lost her parents. In some ways it was easier to carry the weight of their loss, but in other ways it was still present in every day of her life. ‘The house’ that in some ways represented the biggest loss in her life, now also represented the growth and happy times she had shared with Miranda learning about the people and what she could do.  
  
She felt Miranda arrive more than she heard her. The teen was still in her room and she waited to see whether Miranda would search for her or remain downstairs to wait for her. Just as she knew Miranda had arrived, there was no doubt in Andrea’s mind that the older woman would know she was in the house. Quiet steps made their way up the stairs and to the doorway of her childhood bedroom. Andrea continued to scan the photos in the box on her desk. “Why didn’t you want me in New York?” She keeps the wobble out of her voice, but doesn’t dare to look at the beautiful woman with white hair and those ever changing blue eyes that she longs to have look at her, really look at her.  
  
From the doorway, Miranda takes in Andrea’s staged indifference, the set of her shoulders, and the youthful beauty that locks her into place—close because of affection and apart out of respect that hurts. Breathing deeply, Miranda tries to ready herself, as if like balancing for her wings, she would ever resist the wobble these conversations have in her life. “If you want to be in New York, then you will be in time, Andrea. It is not that I don’t want you there.” She paused over the unspoken, ‘I do want you there.’ Stepping into the room, Miranda assessed her options—the bed, the floor, or the desk. Not wanting to tower over the younger woman, Miranda paced to the window for a few moments. “We have talked about this before, Andrea. I thought it was settled.” Hearing the young woman huff behind her at the desk, Miranda stepped over to it and leaned against the side. “You have the opportunity to make your first choice happen and you don’t have to give anything up. If you want to be in New York, it will welcome you when you are ready.”  
  
Biting her thumb agitatedly, Andrea shoves the box of photos back onto the desk and away from her. “I could transfer next year or next semester.”  
  
Resting a hand on the younger woman’s shoulder, Miranda intended to comfort her, “I have been your guide and I will continue in that role in your life, but now is a time of change for you.” Almost stuttering over the next part, Miranda found a way to breathe into it in order to get the words out. “Go with Natalia and make friends. Learn all that you can. Enjoy the city. Find out what in life calls to you.”  
  
Andrea stood out from under Miranda’s hand on her shoulder. “I don’t want a guide.” Her words were angry, but the emotion lacked focus.  
  
Raising both eyebrows at this remark, Miranda reminded herself to stay calm. It was an emotional time with twelve years of school ending, leaving her guardian’s home in a more long-term sense, beginning something new in a new city. Of course for the people, who were never more than a matchstick away from wherever they wanted to be, it wasn’t quite the same, yet it still carried emotional weight as one part of life ended and another began. “You may not want a guide, but you do not know what you want, Andrea. That is why you must follow your first choice, your first dream, and see where you will land. It is not as if New York is going away.”  
  
Eventually Miranda had lead them downstairs and lured Andrea into interaction through the answer to one of her questions. An acquaintance of a friend of a friend had heard about several hits within the Midwest around the time Andrea’s parents were killed. Through that source, Miranda had been able to find enough clues to create a basic story surrounding the Sachs and who had taken them from their lovely little girl. Tears were shed and comfort was given; however the conversation upstairs had not resolved itself by the time the sun had gone down. Andrea returned home for dinner with her aunt and uncle on her last night in Ohio, while Miranda returned to find Nigel and distract herself with dancing.  
  
***  
  
The year had been marvelous in so many ways. Chicago ticked with an energy that Andrea found thrilling. There was just so much to see and do. Her classes were interesting and her professors challenging. Natalia had managed to become her roommate once Andrea’s first roommate had returned home to care for an ailing family member. The chill off the lake caused her to shake when she ventured out with friends in the night. Art, comedy, music, food—it was all a wonderful blur. She hadn’t seen Miranda as often, but told herself that was to be expected with her changing schedule and demands on her time at Runway as it became the powerhouse that Miranda had always believed it could be. It wasn’t the same meeting at ‘ _the house_ ’ and Miranda never seemed to want to stay in New York if she could get away for a while.  
  
The woman who was her friend had become famous in the last two years. Her face regularly graced the society pages in addition to the business and fashion news. Andrea congratulated the white haired woman on her success as well as the attractive redhead always at her side—a Kathleen Duncan from the firm of  _Scharfen, Near, and Clay_.  
  
Natalia had taken her out for a whirlwind tour of the city, complete with kissing underneath Cloud Gate with the rain swirling around beyond them. Her first choice had been amazing—everything she had wanted and very few things that she hadn’t wanted. She had made friends, learned everything that caught her brain, and followed wherever life seemed to call her.  
  
She took the steps up to her dorm two at a time thinking of the hot chocolate, fuzzy socks, and DVD she was going to enjoy while Natalia was at her parents for the weekend.  
  
The pink box announced itself, before Andrea even got close to it. There was only one person who would have brought a cupcake from New York and Andrea rushed up and then down the hall. Frustrated, she pulled out her lighter and travelled up to the roof to look out over the immediate area.  
  
Cursing she realized that as quick as Andrea could look for her, Miranda could leave just as quickly the same way.  
  
Returning to her door, Andrea scooped up the pink box and after a failed key attempt, she stumbled into the small room she shared with Natalia. On one side Andrea’s favorite cocoa delight treat waited for her. It was hot chocolate in a cupcake wrapper—she had nearly died the first time she had dared to taste one. A blue and white striped birthday candle had been slipped into the frosting on top. On the other side of the two-cupcake carrier there was a small cardstock note and a blue lighter. Picking up the note first, Andrea’s eyes filled with burning tears as she read Miranda’s beautiful looping, but not messy handwriting. “I hope your wish comes true.” Pulling her smartphone from her pocket, Andrea took a photo and began to type.  
  
***  
  
Nigel raised a brow at his friend in disbelief. “You want to take ‘ _some time_ ’?” He sneered at her as he walked past her to close the glass door of his office in the art department. “Unbelievable.” He hissed as he turned back to face the wounded tiger holding onto his desk tightly. “What the hell is going on?” He turned her to face him on the stool and grasped her hands in her lap so that she’d have something tethering her to the spot.  
  
“When I first met her, she was a child who had somehow tipped into my living room and then fainted. I have always kept her youth in mind and acted accordingly.” Miranda’s hollow voice sent a chill down Nigel’s spine, but he inhaled the cold air of his office and waited patiently for her to continue. “Being attracted to the beautiful woman she is becoming was slow torture.” Miranda blinked the tears out of her eyes where they left salty trails down her cheeks and let others continue to escape now that a path had been forged through the steel façade. “This isolation is unbearable, Nigel. I think the bond is changing after all. It is slipping away.”  
  
Nigel groaned and rubbed his thumb over the back of Miranda’s icy hands. “Oh, no, Miran—”  
  
He was cut off by Miranda’s sob. “I feel more in Kathleen’s kisses than ever before Nigel. What am I supposed to think?”  
  
Shaking his head, Nigel freed one hand to press against his forehead in thought. “You didn’t talk to her, did you?”  
  
Closing her eyes and taking in a trembling breath of air, Miranda admitted, “I couldn’t.” Her voice had shrunk so small that he barely recognized the tiger she usually invoked in his mind.  
  
Letting out a sad sigh for his friend’s heart, Nigel stepped close and wrapped his arms around her. “I know you went there, what happened?” He quietly asked her hair and hoped that she’d be able to let it out.  
  
“I left her favorite cupcake with a candle, lighter, and a note.” Miranda smiled sadly at the thought of Andrea sharing her favorite treat with her one time in an effort to convince her that it was: The. Best. Thing. Ever.  
  
Rubbing circles into her back, Nigel followed up. “What did it say?”  
  
Settling her cheek against his shoulder to that she could breathe away from him, she whispered, “I hope your wish comes true.”  
  
Swooning at the risky romantic gesture his friend had undertaken, and knowing she was devastated now, Nigel could only imagine the response she had received. He knew he had to ask, but he wasn’t sure his heart could take Miranda breaking in his arms. “You haven’t heard from her?” He almost hoped that she hadn’t, maybe Andrea had gone away for her birthday and it was still sitting there. Then he realized it had been more than a week since the annual occurrence would have passed.  
  
Gripping his shirt in her fingertips, Miranda whimpered. “She texted a picture of it and said, ‘ _It will_.’ Nothing else, no explanation, no celebration, just nothing—I can’t do this anymore, Nigel. I can’t just wait and wonder what the bond may or may not become.”  
  
Hugging her tightly to his chest, Nigel sighed. He understood the confusion and the pain such a situation had to cause as it evolved slowly and in ways that would be invisible until suddenly one day the two women would see each other differently. “If you think it will help, then take a few days. I can take care of things here for a little while.” Sensing her relief wash over her, he pulled back and fixed on her eyes. “I must know where you are—no running off.” He continued to look into the storm of her eyes and wondered about her statement about not waiting anymore. “And no Kathleen.” He made sure that his tone was stern and his eyes did not waver from her in the slightest. “You’ve had two years, so what difference could two more weeks make? It wouldn’t be fair to pursue her when you knew your heart was still unmoved.”  
  
Sitting up a little straighter, Miranda wiped at her eyes until Nigel handed her a tissue. “Fine. I won’t do anything rash.”  
  
Walking around his work table, Nigel flipped turned on the light so that he could take a look at the images he had been about to sort through. Charcoal pencil in hand, Nigel leaned forward as he spread the images out and flipped others over in a pile. Miranda seemed content to be sitting and processing and he hoped that she would stay true to her word. He also wondered where she would go in order to ensure Andrea wouldn’t be able to find her. “Just out of curiosity,” he began, but they both knew it was not as casual as he was playing it. “What would you have done if she wished for you?”  
  
When she was silent for too long, he looked up with a masked look of confusion. “Um.”  
  
He almost smirked at the way speech had abandoned her at that thought. “What if the beautiful Andrea Sachs, 18 year old, almost sophomore at Northwestern, had wished for Miranda Priestly?” He let his re-phrased question sink into her mind. “What if the tall, brunette admitted to wanting you so badly that you were her only birthday wish? What would you do?”  
  
Seeing he slightly horrified look on her face, Nigel softened his words as he followed up. “What if her answer to you meant that her wish would come true, just not yet?”  
  
Miranda shifted on the spot, her arms crossing over her chest defensively. “Nigel.”  
  
He blithely carried on, “You might wish for a romantic bond with her, but you aren’t ready. She might wish for the same thing, only she knows she’s not ready.”  
  
Rallying her anger now that she could pick at one of his points, Miranda huffed. “How do you explain the bond lessening and Kathleen having more impact on me?”  
  
Setting down his charcoal pencil, Nigel scratched at his head as he searched his mind for an apt analogy. “Last year you flew the city, right?” When Miranda nodded, he hoped that her tears would not make a return. “You said she was afraid and that you held her hand as you guided her over the edge, right?” He didn’t wait for her reply, not wanting to mar his example with sadness over a happy memory. “You said you thought of dancing with her there in the sky. When you dance you have to move with your partner or away. Sometimes your hold lessens and other times you let go completely. Yet it is still part of the same dance with that person.” Nigel smiled softly at his long time friend. “Perhaps you and Andrea are dancers and at this moment, you have let go in order to complete a turn. One that you both wish to return to the dance from.”  
  
Sighing out her frustration at his endless romanticism, Miranda countered, “It doesn’t feel like a quick turn.”  
  
Nigel shrugged slightly. “A year ago, you asked Tara about how you could ever go from seeing her as a child to a grown up.”  
  
Rolling her eyes at his nearly perfect memory, Miranda agreed. “She told me that Aurora was just another silly girl until something happened that finally brought the prince to her.”  
  
Pointing out the door, Nigel said. “You aren’t ready any more than Andrea. Take your time off, come back, and follow this wherever it’s going to lead.”  
  
***  
  
In the intervening year, Runway won three awards and Andrea became the editor of the university newspaper. They shared their successes with each other through email and text, but rarely through more than a stilted cup of coffee. On her birthday, Andrea worked hard over a deadline both longing to see what might be on her doorstep and dreading it as well. Too many things had been swept to the side in favor of pleasant company and now it seemed that there was something holding each of them back. Andrea thought she saw it in Miranda’s eyes, not as a mere reflection of her own feelings, but deep within the beautiful woman with white hair and stormy blue eyes. It was as if they had become strangers, while still somehow hanging onto an old awkwardness.  
  
The cupcake box this year filled Andrea with a strange weepy happiness and she was glad that once again Natalia had been out of town. She put the blue and white striped candle with the other four. This year the note was just as simple, and yet Andrea felt the distance growing larger between them with the shift. “Hope your birthday is great.”  
  
Andrea snuggled into her fuzzy socks, enjoyed her cupcake, took a picture of the wrapper and her frosting covered finger and texted Miranda. “Wouldn’t be my birthday without you.”  
  
***  
  
_I need to fly._  
  
Miranda glared at her phone willing Andrea to follow up her text with another, hopefully less cryptic text. After several minutes of staring out over Manhattan from her office window, the editor sighed and returned to her seat. Tossing the phone on the desktop, she pinched the bridge of her nose. Was it just a random thought of how she was feeling at the moment? Was it an invitation? Was it even meant for her? Miranda couldn’t imagine who else the beautiful brunette would text that to, but there was no telling who the younger woman had met in the last six months.  
  
Darkness was settling over the city and Miranda had patted herself on the back for being able to lose herself in her work once again. She hadn’t meant to completely ignore Andrea’s text, she just needed to let it set for a while. She had also been forlornly hoping that there would be some kind of follow up.  
  
“You can’t go in there.” The hiss of her assistant’s voice brought Miranda’s attention up from her work.  
  
Andrea had grown another two inches and she was stalking toward her in her jeans and converse, ignoring the assistant in a way that made Miranda proud.  
  
“I’ll call security.” The assistant was likely ready to implode.  
  
Andrea smirked at Miranda, but she was tired. It showed in the corners of her eyes that didn’t sparkle to go with the smirk. Pushing away from her desk, Miranda quietly ordered her assistant. “Andrea is welcome here anytime she wishes.” Pausing as the woman gasped and looked at Miranda with a slack jaw, Miranda continued. “Go see if the Book is ready. Leave it on my desk.”  
  
Andrea stood just inside her office, so Miranda adjusted her path and stepped to lean against the front of her desk. Tucking her hands in her pockets, Andrea sighed. Her dark brown eyes trailed up and down Miranda’s body as if seeing her for the first time in her life. Her lower lip tucked under her teeth as she floundered for words.  
  
“Andrea. You look marvelous.” Miranda couldn’t help it. The young woman radiated beauty whether in a general or a more personal sense.  
  
“I hope you don’t mind.” The brunette shrugged as she pulled her right hand out of her pocket and motioned around the office.  
  
“You are always welcome here, Andrea.” The older woman assured her, but then she faltered into quiet uncertain of how to begin.  
  
Stepping closer now, Andrea rested her fingertips on the black leather top of a guest chair. “Am I?” She blinked at Miranda, her eyes filling with tears. “You didn’t text me back.”  
  
Wincing at the hurt in the younger woman’s voice, the editor exhaled loudly. “I wasn’t sure what to say.”  
  
Glancing over Miranda’s shoulder, Andrea took in the darkening sky. “Will you fly the city with me, Miranda?”  
  
A direct question could have a direct answer just about any day with the older woman. Smiling she teased. “From here and not the Empire State Building or the Rock?”  
  
Tears filling her eyes, Andrea shook her head. “No. From here.”  
  
Pulling a lighter from her trouser pocket, Miranda stepped closer to Andrea and held out her hand. “Shall we?”  
  
***  
  
Miranda unfurled her wings glad to be getting away from her office after too many long days in a row. Flexing her wings up and out, she couldn’t shake the bubbling feeling of happiness that whatever else was going on, Andrea had wanted to fly with her. The younger woman had sought her out to share in another version of one of their favorite times together. Looking to her side as she stepped up on the low edge wall, Miranda took in the beautiful woman flexing her own wings in preparation of a night of flying. “Same route?” The older woman found herself eager to begin now that they were out in the fresh air.  
  
“Exact same.” Andrea smiled at her with a smirk.  
  
Miranda flapped her wings and fluttered off ready to swing around the building and begin their trip. Perhaps this time, she’d suggest they fly back here instead of heading back to her house for hot cocoa. She turned to make the suggestion only to find she was alone. “Andrea?” Looking around frantically, the white haired woman located her companion standing on the edge wall watching her. Flying back, Miranda hovered in front of her, “Andrea?” When the younger woman just shook her head and blinked her eyes to ward off tears, Miranda set her feet on either side of Andrea’s and pushed her back slightly. “What is it, Andrea?” Miranda touched her cheek with chilled fingertips. Her eyes poured all of their caring out for the brunette to see.  
  
“I was so mad at you and I didn’t even know why.” Andrea rested her hands on Miranda’s hips knowing that they both needed the balance to stay perched where they were. “I thought I could love Natalia. I tried so hard to do what you said.” Swallowing hard, Andrea shook her head a little as if to organize her scattered thoughts. “Tali is with Lily. I should be crushed, but I’m not.” Andrea breathed in deep her eyes going out of focus and then coming back to gaze intently on Miranda’s blue eyes. “I just want to fly with you.”  
  
Shocked by the combination of ideas pouring forth from the younger woman, Miranda held her breath as her eyes searched Andrea’s to see if she had meant things the way Miranda had heard them, and to see if Andrea had connected what it could all mean. “Do you feel up to flying, Andrea?” Her forelock falling in front of her face, Miranda didn’t want to be uptight, but she couldn’t let anything happen to Andrea.  
  
Pulling the older woman tighter against her, Andrea murmured. “Can we dance in the air first? You talked about that last time.” Blushing slightly as her brain caught up to her words, but gathering courage from the feel of Miranda’s heat against her front, Andrea added, “I’d like to be in your arms, Miranda.”  
  
Shaking her head at the wooziness she was feeling, Miranda smiled. “Darling, of course we can.” Adjusting her hold on Andrea, the older woman smiled wickedly as she stepped backwards off the roof wall. “Hold onto me.”  
  
***  
  
As soon as they had found each other at the Bethesda Fountain, Andrea had reached for Miranda’s hand. “Thank you.” She murmured as she leaned forward and kissed her companion’s cheek.  
  
Leading the way out of the park, Miranda wondered if they should call a cab. Then realizing that she didn’t want to end their time together too soon, she figured the walk would be good. If anyone noticed them, neither woman knew about it. The silence between them now seemed blissed out after a wonderful flight—all of the distance between them felt melted. Basking in the moment they each hoped that they would be able to keep it this way.  
  
Crossing the street away from the park, Miranda finally asked, “What did you mean, you were so mad at me?”  
  
Andrea sighed and looked around them hoping for a distraction and finding none. “I was going to Chicago. I had a girlfriend. I was so excited to find out everything life had ahead of me.” Andrea sounded amused at herself and more than a little thoughtful. Miranda squeezed their joined hands, but waited for her to continue. “I didn’t know why at the time, but I wanted you to want me to come to New York. I could have gone to college here. My girlfriend could have come here too. It hurt that you wanted me to go and figure out life. I didn’t understand it then, but I think I thought you meant that I should have a life away from you, that you wouldn’t be in my life.”  
  
Miranda pulled the brunette to a stop. “Oh, I never meant that, Andrea.”  
  
Smiling up at the taller woman, Andrea nodded before continuing her thoughts. “I was upset that Natalia left me for Lily; however I realized that I was more upset that I seemed to have lost you.” Andrea reached up and cupped Miranda’s cheek with her free hand. “I realized that I want you in my life, Miranda.” Her brown eyes searched into the storm clouds of Miranda’s. “Not as my guide or mentor.” She quietly continued and then breathed deeply. “I want to be with you, Miranda.” The wonder in her brown eyes melted Miranda’s heart just a little bit more. “I think somehow I always have.”  
  
Hugging Andrea tightly to her, Miranda closed her eyes to block the tears. “I have missed you so much, but you needed to become the woman you are now.”  
  
After many minutes, Andrea pulled back. “I want to kiss you, Miranda. Please.” At the gentle nod, Andrea leaned forward and up onto her toes wanting the angle, the contact, and the kiss to be perfect.  
  
***  
  
Hot chocolate on the counter between them, the two women couldn’t stop looking at each other, smiling, and speaking in quiet voices. They had just finished laughing after Andrea had swiped a finger full of whipped cream on Miranda’s cheek and then kissed it off.  
  
“I will do this the right way, Andrea.” The somber tone brought the playtime to a temporary halt.  
  
Feeling a flutter in her heart, the brunette took in the way that the protectiveness and honor made her feel. “Are you going to court me, Miranda Priestly?” Her words held a joking tone, yet her eyes conveyed a reflected sincerity.  
  
Pushing her mug away from her hands, Miranda nodded. “I am going to speak to your aunt and then I am going to court you as you deserve.” When Andrea’s eyebrows rose up her forehead, Miranda clasped her hands together. “We have known each other too long to rush at this and there are things you need to finish in Chicago.”  
  
Slumping down on her stool at those words, Andrea sighed. “You’re going to talk to my aunt Tara about dating?” Andrea closed one eye and looked at the woman who so easily filled her heart. “And I need to finish things in Chicago?” Closing her open eye, Andrea opened the other one looking at the woman sitting with her like a curious wild creature that had turned up in a location far from its natural habitat.  
  
“You have loved Northwestern and you have enjoyed your friends and the city. I would not dream of taking that time away from you. At the risk of making you angry again, I’ll point out that New York, or perhaps I, will still be here.” Leaning closer, Miranda held Andrea still with her hand on her hip. Claiming those dark lips with her own, Miranda lingered over the kiss in order to make her intentions clear. “It is not as if either of us is more than the flick of a lighter away from the other.”  
  
Impishly rolling her eyes and sighing at her love, Andrea sighed. “Next you’re going to play career counselor. I’m already the editor of the paper at Northwestern and I’m interning at the Tribune. I should stay until I get a full time gig and then once I’m established, I could write my own ticket in New York.”  
  
Rubbing her nose against Andrea’s, the older woman let her lips press sweetly against Andrea’s more than once before pulling away. “I don’t know if I will want to wait for you to be able to write your own ticket in New York.” She teased back and then added seriously. “It will be easier to get hired on if you have a little more reporting under your belt. New York is a tough town.”  
  
Pulling back to look into those blue eyes, Andrea grinned, “Yes, Miranda.” She agreed, her voice a sing song that she had long used during long workouts or other training and testing sessions, when Miranda had been demanding and Andrea made a great show of her obeisance.  
  
***  
  
Packing her stuff months later, Natalia sat on her twin bed with a heavy sigh. “Did you ever care, Andy?”  
  
Looking up from her notes, the brunette’s eyes were wide as she tried to fathom the question and pull the correct answer from the depths. “Of course, I cared, Tali. We were together forever.” Andrea set her pen in the center of the book and shoved it away from her so she could sit up and face her former girlfriend and roommate.  
  
Blinking back tears, the red head shook her head. “That’s just it. We were together forever. Then Lily reveals her feelings and I’m torn for months. I finally realize we were going nowhere and try to break it to you gently, but you just,” Natalia waved her hand out in a dismissive gesture. “Accept. Sure you were upset at the time, but not really, not for very long.”  
  
Knowing that the other young woman needed to work through this in order to be able to put it to rest, Andrea scooted forward to the edge of her bed. “Are you upset that I wasn’t more upset?” Cracking a knowing smirk at her longtime friend, Andrea shifted across the small space between the beds and landed next to her on the bare mattress. Taking Natalia’s hand in her own, Andrea ducked her head so she could look into the distressed hazel eyes. “You said it yourself, Tali. We weren’t going anywhere, were we?”  
  
Wiping at her tears with her free hand, Natalia snuffled. “I always thought you were afraid to finally go there.”  
  
Letting out a sad laugh, Andrea nodded. “Well, I am. I’ve waited so long to really be with someone that it feels like it is almost more important than it even really is or something.” Andrea squeezed the hand in her own and wiggled it back and forth between their legs. “I think you and I were supposed to grow up together or something like that. I love you, Tali, but I don’t know that we were ever in love with each other. Why didn’t you ever push for more?”  
  
Sighing, Natalia leaned her head back against the wall. “Knowing what I know now, I’d have to say I didn’t push you for more because my blood wasn’t boiling for you.”  
  
Andrea groaned and then giggled. “That doesn’t sound like a good thing, but I know what you’re trying to say.” The brunette couldn’t help tease her close friend. “It’s hard to leave what you know behind for something else, but Tali, you’ll still have me.”  
  
Sitting forward, Natalia turned to face her ex-girlfriend. “And when you go to New York?”  
  
With the awkwardness that had slipped between them since Lily and Natalia’s revelation, Andrea had not spoken to her about her growing affections and changing relationship with Miranda. That didn’t mean Natalia couldn’t guess where the future was taking Andrea. Starting with the obvious reassurance, she playfully teased, “Oh, please. Lily wants a gallery in Manhattan more than just about anything. How many times has she dragged you there for the weekend?”  
  
Her lower lip jutting out, Natalia still felt like she was losing in this situation. “We used to go together.”  
  
Andrea scooted to the edge of the bed, letting her feet dangle over the edge. “We used to make out in movie theaters.” She stuck her tongue out when the red head gasped. “Some things we will miss and some things we will blush over years from now. If I’m in New York and so are you and Lily, then I’m sure we’ll go places together.”  
  
Catching onto the playfulness finally, Natalia grinned, “Just no kissing?”  
  
Biting her lower lip, Andrea figured this was as good of a time as any to share her own revelation. “I don’t think Miranda would like you kissing me.”  
  
Jumping forward, Natalia almost fell off the bed as she wrapped her arms around her friend. “Did you figure it out?” Pulling back in a frantic hug release, she practically squealed, “Did she figure it out?” Slapping Andrea’s shoulder, Natalia burbled. “Oh my god. When did this happen? When? I can’t believe this.”  
  
Andrea thought her smile was going to break her cheeks—they hurt so much. “It took me a while to figure things out, but I noticed the same thing you did—I was upset about our break up, but not really. About a month later I had finally run out of distractions and was sitting here thinking. I had to see her, so I went. I just, I texted her and without waiting for a reply I showed up.”  
  
Natalia suddenly sobered up and looked Andrea seriously in the eyes for long moments. Just when the brunette opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, the red head deadpanned. “She makes your blood boil. That’s how you understand.”  
  
Scrunching up her face, Andrea pushed Natalia away from her and stood up. “Yuck. No my blood hasn’t boiled. What is with the gross imagery?” Andrea laughed hard at Natalia’s shocked face and then waved her off and sat on her own bed. It still had bedding and was much more comfortable. “There might be hearts fluttering around my head or some other thing, but definitely no blood boiling.”  
  
Natalia blinked at Andrea slowly. “She’s making you wait.” When Andrea’s cheeks flushed red and then the color swept down her neck, Natalia laughed uproariously until she had tears streaming down her cheeks.  
  
Winking at her friend, Andrea shrugged. “I’m interning at the New York Mirror this summer so there’s no rush really.”  
  
Natalia fell over on the bed holding her stomach. “Please tell me we can go to Giordano’s tonight. Lily is prepping her final show.”

 

 

...


	5. New York Cabbies

_**Chosen by Fire. Part 5/7.**_  
  
Setting her wine glass down, Miranda made her way down the stairs to see who was at her door on a Thursday night. The Book had been rather painful and she had been enjoying a bit of quiet before she’d have to head off to bed in order to be up early enough to thoroughly terrorize her minions for it. She had become a public figure with the success of Runway. Everyone wanted to know about the woman behind the rapid recovery of a magazine that had been languishing for nearly a decade. Unfortunately, except for the woman she usually took to events and a Saint Bernard that Miranda walked religiously on the weekends in Central Park—she had been one of the most boring public figures around. It was a lot easier to keep secrets when you didn’t actually have to be visible or take time to travel anywhere, not that there was much to keep secret other than her heritage and a fondness for a brunette formerly from Ohio.  
  
“Tara.” Miranda pulled the door open to greet her unexpected visitor. “Come in, come in.” Fighting her curiosity, the white haired woman kept her questions back as she led her into the kitchen. She would make polite conversation instead of quizzing the woman, but they knew each other too well to have an audience in the sitting room. “Would you like anything? Coffee? Wine?” Miranda waved her arm about the kitchen to indicate that all Tara needed was to say the word.  
  
Settling onto a kitchen stool, Andrea’s aunt smiled. “Water would be good. Thank you.” She knew that Miranda was biting her lip in order to hold back her questions and it amused her.  
  
Filling two short glasses from the fridge, Miranda brought them over to the countertop and settled onto a stool facing her guest. “How are things?”  
  
Giggling just like Andrea, her aunt waved her hand at Miranda. “Oh, goodness. We’re being awkward.” She breathed in trying to calm herself, and then launched forward. “Of course, I’m here about Andy, but you know that she’s fine.” Taking in Miranda’s serious expression, Tara sighed. “If anything had happened to Andy, then I’d be there and I’d call you on the cell.”  
  
Glad she had been needlessly worrying, Miranda still felt a little awkward. “I see.” She settled on as reply.  
  
“Andrea is coming to New York for the summer, Miranda. That’s why I’m here.” Tara figured it was best to just blurt out her main point, that way they could slide past the awkwardness between them by figuring out the fallout of her statement. When she saw that Miranda was shaking her head in the negative, she sighed. “I know you don’t want her to come. She told me that you want her to stay in Chicago or take a month to visit home or travel with friends.” Nodding at Miranda, the older woman continued on, “Andy is stubborn and when she sets her mind to something, you know she’s going to make it happen. She wants to be in New York and close to you for the summer.”  
  
Her blue eyes filled with conflicting emotions, Miranda thought that she needed to reassure Andrea’s guardian that she was not encouraging these choices. “I’ve told Andrea that a couple of weeks after term here would be great, but that she should enjoy her free summers while she is able to.” Her brow furrowing as she spoke, Miranda shook her head and then added, “It’s not that I don’t want Andrea here. I do. I just want her to enjoy her free time, to travel, spend time with her family, and visit old friends. Once she is in the working world and living full time in another state it is much more difficult to spend quality time. There are just too many demands on a person’s time and things fall to the wayside.”  
  
Holding up her hands to stop Miranda’s earnest speech, Tara smiled at her. “Miranda, it’s okay. I know you are fighting her decision.” The older brunette paused as her words sunk in and the white haired woman blinked at her in confusion. “I’m here because Andy is coming to New York in a few weeks and she is staying for the summer. I don’t know why you’re fighting it really, we knew this would probably happen eventually, so why fight it?” Not pausing to give Miranda a chance to object, Tara continued on. “I would much rather have her here with you, than in some scuzzy apartment in a rundown building in a shady neighborhood.” Fixing the other woman with a hard look, Tara tapped the countertop between them. “Where would you rather her be—here with you or…?” She trailed off as they both conjured up unwanted images from real life or television of places that they did not want Andrea to be living.  
  
Letting her breath of air out slowly between her lips like a pressure release, Miranda’s eyes teared up. “I just don’t think I could hold back if she lives here for nearly three months.” Miranda swallowed hard trying to keep her composure. This was never a conversation that she had ever dreamed of having with any romantic partner’s family.  
  
“Miranda. Did you coerce Andy into her feelings? Did you get her to admit to something she wasn’t ready for? Did you take advantage of her in any way?” Tara crossed her arms over her chest as she drilled Miranda with the accusations that she could only assume were bothering Miranda. Raising her eyebrows at the other woman’s shocked and devastated face, Tara rolled her eyes. “Of course, you didn’t.” Letting out a heavy sigh, she continued. “You gave Andy space to figure things out on her own. You encouraged her to follow her first choice to Chicago with her girlfriend, who ended up being her roommate, which hurt the both of you more than I think I can understand. Even when she finally came to you and realized her emotions for you had grown up just like she had—you came to me to ask permission to date her. Andy says you’re ‘courting her’. And those little quotes are hers.” Tara put her palms face down on the countertop and looked down for a brief moment. Looking up because this was part of what she had come here to do, Tara once again surged forward. “Perhaps other people, the press, and frankly a bunch of idiots, might be critical of your relationship with Andrea at the present time. You are older than she is and you are in a very different point in your careers. However halfway through college, Andrea is already a homeowner on basically a full scholarship. She couldn’t be called a gold digger with any sincerity.” Scrunching up her nose, Tara added, “Besides I think the girlfriend she’s been with for nearly four years, including two years where they lived together can vouchsafe for the fact that you weren’t taking advantage of Andy in any way.”  
  
Closing her eyes to try and stem the stressed tears from falling, Miranda breathed deep for several moments. The silence crept into the room, and while it was heavy with the seriousness of the topic, it was not cloying. “Tara.” Miranda managed to choke the other woman’s name out before the emotions got the better of her. “What are you saying?” She managed to ask a few moments later.  
  
“I’m saying that I understand your concerns, but think it’s ridiculous to deny the draw between the two of you now. Andrea knows her feelings and she knows what’s what in a relationship. She’s 20 years old, a junior in college, and beautiful. You were chosen by fire for each other, even if it was quite early in life. I truly believe it would have happened one way or the other.” Tara took a sip from her water glass. “Hell, she could have wandered into your magazine looking for a job when she came to New York looking for her big writing break. What would you have done then?”  
  
Thinking about her assistant’s reaction to Andrea’s presence only a few months ago, Miranda chuckled. “Oh, that would have been rich.”  
  
Laughing at her companion’s almost grimace, Tara assured her, “At least this way, she’s already got an in at the New York Mirror as a summer intern. You don’t have to worry about those Converse in your office.”  
  
Raising her eyebrows, Miranda shared part of the story of Andrea’s last visit to Runway. “Actually the night we finally admitted our feelings, she showed up at the office and my assistant nearly had a fit trying to block her.”  
  
Gasping at this reveal, Tara held her hand over her mouth. “No!? When was this?”  
  
***  
  
Amused that she’s doing a piece about conditions for New York cab drivers that is remarkably similar to one that she wrote the previous year at Northwestern, Andrea looked out at the buildings, cars, and pedestrians they were passing. They’d just passed the Needle Threading a Button statue in the Garment District when Andrea’s attention was jerked toward the driver and the emergency erupting all around them. There had been a sickening thump sound. The car had come to an immediate stop in the turn lane blocking traffic. Cars around them were honking. Pedestrians were rushing forward. Scarves were flying in the air. The taxi driver had bailed out of the car. Andrea took in a deep breath and kicked back into real time—the taxi driver she had been interviewing and observing had just hit a pedestrian.  
  
The red head was cursing a streak that would have bloodied children’s eardrums. Her face was hidden, but Andrea knew those scarves and she knew that color of red hair. Andrea noted that while the woman was in pain, there was not a lot of blood and there were no visible bones or organs. A pedestrian was in her face on the cell phone asking questions that the emergency workers must have been prompting her to ask: name, age, weight, injury, nausea, conscious… Andrea looked around with wide eyes. It was surreal.  
  
Picking up the woman’s bag and the almost empty box from Hermes, Andrea wasn’t sure whether she wanted to make contact with the woman, or stay on the outer edges of the scene in anonymity. It wasn’t like they were friends, but Andrea figured that if she’d just been hit by a car that she’d take any familiar face as comfort.  
  
“This is a sign, Irv Ravitz. This is a sign.” Emily hissed to herself as she rocked and tried to leave her body to escape the pain. From all the damn questions she knew that someone had called for help, but every second that her heart beat at this point was just another intense throb of pain. “I told him the plan wouldn’t work. I didn’t want any part of it. This is a sign.”  
  
Miranda had told Andrea about her newest First Assistant—she would repeat things under her breath like a mantra. Andrea had scolded her love for being amused that the woman most often chanted that she loved her job. However it came in handy to know that the woman would repeat important tasks or current strong thoughts. Stepping closer and picking up scarves as she worked her way around, Andrea listened to the woman rant.  
  
One of the observers offered, “She’s going into shock. What’s that she’s saying?”  
  
Another offered, “Here, put my coat over her. You have to keep shock victims warm.”  
  
Pondering the wisdom of crowds, Andrea collected the expensive scarves and put the distraught woman’s words together in her mind until they formed a picture. Irv Ravitz had a plot of some kind that he wanted Emily to be a part of. She hadn’t wanted to be included, but perhaps felt pressured or backed into playing some role. Only now with her getting hit by a cab, she couldn’t participate and the red head thought it was a sign from the universe.  
  
“I don’t care about missing Paris. I won’t have to be part of it this way.” Emily was talking herself into being happy with the chain of events that would take her out of the plan.  
  
***  
  
Andrea would not shout, however she would not be stopped either. She had slipped away once the ambulance had taken Emily away and the police had the cab towed away and the driver in their back seat. She felt bad for him, but other than giving them her information and brief statement, there was nothing she could do for him. Flicking her lighter, she had thought of the hallway next to the bathroom at Runway and hoped for the best. It wouldn’t do any good if she appeared in the editor’s office and there was some kind of meeting going on. It did get her past security and since people didn’t eat or drink at Runway she was reasonably assured that there wouldn’t be anyone near the bathroom. From there it was a short enough trip to Miranda’s office—if it weren’t for the Second Assistant—also called Emily.  
  
Walking forward like she owned the place, Andrea did not slow down as she neared the editor’s desk. “Emily, is she in a meeting?” When the shocked guppy just opened and closed her mouth and tried to stand and round the desk, Andrea held the scarf box up. “I’ll just take these in.” Frightened at just how easily she had been able to pull that off, Andrea focused on the white hair, pale skin, and blue eyes of her girlfriend. She could have a bit of a panic over the whole fiasco of an afternoon when this part was done.  
  
“Andrea? What have you got there?” Miranda stood smoothly. Her legs carried her around the desk with feline grace. The young woman seemed all right, if a little pale and frantic. The Hermes box however looked like it had, well, like it had been run over. As if that weren’t mystifying enough, Andrea had brought it into her office instead of her, oh, missing assistant. “Where is Emily?” Miranda’s mind began to race with questions and scenarios.  
  
“I was doing my article about the cabbies when my guy hit a pedestrian.” Andrea just began to tell the story as she stepped fully into the office. “We were in the fashion district by that statue. It was Emily.” Andrea set the damaged box on the desk, slipped her backpack to the floor, and then slumped into the leather chair.  
  
“What? Oh, my. Is she okay?” Miranda couldn’t believe this was real, but knew from the sinking feeling in her stomach that it most certainly would prove to be true.  
  
“They took her to the hospital. I wrote it down.” Andrea motioned at her bag. “I think she broke her leg in two places or something, but it could have been so much worse.” Scratching at her own head, the young brunette sighed. “She probably has a concussion too, maybe some shock.” Looking intently at her girlfriend, Andrea put her fingertips up on the edge of the desk. “Miranda, she was doing that repeat thing. She was saying something about not caring she’d miss Paris because she didn’t want to be part of Irv Ravitz’s plan anyway. She saw the accident as some kind of sign from the universe that he shouldn’t be plotting against you.”  
  
Miranda had Andrea repeat the story a few times, asking similar questions trying to get out the nuances that maybe Andrea wouldn’t know to think of as important in her re-telling of Emily’s chanting. She knew Emily better than her girlfriend did, but it wasn’t like they were close. It was like trying to figure out the image of a puzzle where you only had half of the pieces and the ones you had might not even be from the same puzzle. “What are you up to, Irving.” Miranda murmured as she settled back into her chair. Then as she returned to the present moment, she regarded her young love. “Are you okay, Andrea?”  
  
Hugging her arms around her middle, Andrea nodded. “Yeah. I’m just a little freaked that my cabbie hit someone, you know?” She winced as she thought of the scene once again while they waited for the paramedics and the police to arrive. “That was so crazy that I knew Emily. Things like that never happen, right?” Andrea turned big brown eyes on her girlfriend seeking confirmation that this kind of thing didn’t happen all the time. That was just too crazy to think things lined up this way on a regular basis. “What do you think it’s all about?”  
  
Checking the time, Miranda tapped the space bar to wake her laptop up and check her schedule. “I think that it is time for us to go home.” She smiled at the brunette and then tapped a few sentences on her keyboard and used the track pad to click a couple of times. “Irv Ravitz is the CEO of Elias-Clark. He is always plotting against me.” The light on the back of the laptop went out and Miranda closed the lid and slid it into her desk drawer. Locking it, she stood and motioned for Andrea to head out of the office as well. “Coat. Bag.” She told the second assistant. “I am concerned that he brought my assistant into his scheme.” She slipped into her coat as the assistant held it out for her. “Have them leave the book on my desk tonight.” She told her assistant before turning to walk up the hallway.  
  
Inside the elevator, Andrea asked. “What kind of plans does he make against you? You don’t seem too worried.”  
  
As they descended toward the ground floor, Miranda sighed. “He usually tries to give me outdated budget projections or slip things into Runway’s budget so that they look like my expenses.” Turning to smirk at the younger woman, Miranda added, “Once he tried to give me incorrect information about the Board Meeting so that I would be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Unfortunately for him, it went the other way around. He was so red that he was purple.” Moving her eyebrows in a little dance of glee, she added, “By the time he recovered enough to face me, I was on an expensive photo shoot in the Maldives for a week that he couldn’t even begin to question.”  
  
In the car, Andrea continued to puzzle over this information. “I think you should take me to Paris tonight so that I know where you’ll be.”  
  
Patting her love on the thigh, Miranda tried to put her off. “Don’t worry, Andrea. He is always up to no good. The worst he could do would be to substitute nude photographs doctored to be me into to one of the presentations.”  
  
Tangling their fingers together, Andrea turned to face the white haired woman. “Miranda, you can’t leave me here worrying for a whole week. You said that he’s never brought one of your assistant’s in on his schemes. What if he’s trying something more sinister this time?” When Miranda seemed like she would continue to hold out, Andrea pouted her lower lip out, blinked her doe-like brown eyes and cooed, “What if I just miss you in the middle of the week and want a cuddle?”  
  
Lured to face her lover in the backseat, Miranda reached up with her free hand and cupped Andrea’s cheek. “Don’t do that. You’re horrible.” Her words were belied by the cooing tone of her voice and the way her breath ghosted over Andrea’s lips before she gave into the need to kiss the brunette.  
  
“It won’t take long to show me the main locations for your visit. We can take a vacation there another time.” Andrea smiled when Miranda groaned. Then she leaned in for another, deeper kiss to stop her protesting words.  
  
***  
  
Unable to shake her worries, Andrea kissed her love deeply before letting her out the front door of the townhouse. Having access to her location in Paris let her feel moderately better, but she was more concerned with what other people were up to instead of missing the white haired woman. Of course she’d gotten used to sleeping next to her and knew that the autumn would be difficult since Miranda would expect her to return to Chicago to continue her studies. Andrea wondered if she should argue for easy commuting or just give in and keep her place in the dorms. She could organize her classes so that she could have long weekends. Miranda simply could not argue with her schedule.  
  
Making her way up the stairs, the brunette returned to their bedroom. As she went about getting ready, Andrea called her summer time boss at the Mirror. She wanted to follow up on her NYC cabbie story by following what would happen to the woman he hit as well as the legal process the cabbie and the company would go through as a result of the accident. Having her own load of responsibilities in addition to herding the interns around, her boss was keen for her to follow her own journalistic spirit and get out of her hair.  
  
Dressed in clothes Miranda had brought home for her over the course of the summer, Andrea made her way across town to Presbyterian Hospital. The hospital staff had her sign in, but other than that they didn’t blink an eye as she made her way to the cranky red head’s room. If anything they hoped that she was family and would be taking her home soon.  
  
“Let me open that for you.” Andrea had watched the woman grow more and more frustrated as she tried to peel the top off of a chocolate pudding. So she had used that as her opening to slip into the room and start the conversation.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Emily’s eyes narrowed to slits, as she took in the familiar brunette in clothes that had passed through Runway on the way to Miranda’s home. She couldn’t quite make it all click though and she shook her head as she lowered the chocolate pudding to the tray. Maybe she had hit her head harder than the doctors had realized.  
  
Reaching for the chocolate pudding cup, Andrea gently clasped the woman’s hand to pry it loose. “You look like you could use some help.” Andrea wasn’t sure why she didn’t just identify herself, but it seemed like they needed to work up to that. Perhaps assistance with the dessert would build a bit of trust.  
  
Relinquishing the cup to the strange woman, Emily licked her lips. She knew she’d seen her before, but it was fuzzy. “Were you there yesterday?”  
  
Handing back the open pudding cup, Andrea smiled. “Here you go.” Pulling the chair next to the bed, Andrea settled onto it. “Yes, I was there yesterday. My name is Andy, but you wouldn’t know that. You were in a lot of pain.” She waved her hand at Emily’s leg, which was casted and pulled up in an elevated sling. “You’re good with faces though, so where else have you seen me?”  
  
Distracted from her pudding, Emily sucked on the spoon in her mouth and looked the brunette over again. “You’re the one that showed up that night in Converse and ripped jeans and, and, and…” She was working herself up into a truly frenzied state and Andrea smiled at her. “You’re still not even wearing make-up.”  
  
Andrea crossed her right leg over her left and nodded at the other woman. “Now you’ve got it.”  
  
Taking another spoonful of pudding, Emily tried to figure it out. “Who are you? You just show up places. That’s weird.”  
  
Musing at the thread of weird in her life, Andrea nodded easily. “I couldn’t believe when I got out of that cab and saw you were the person who had been hit. What are the chances, really?” The brunette leaned forward and peered up at the red head. “Almost as weird as you being relieved to be missing Paris fashion week, when I know you live for it.” At the gasp and widening of blue eyes, Andrea smiled again. “So, why don’t you tell me what you’ve gotten mixed up in, hmmm?”  
  
***  
  
It hadn’t been that easy, but once the words had started, Emily poured the story out like she was purifying her soul. Maybe she was. It was clear to Andrea that the injured woman had not wanted to become part of the CEO’s plan, but he had something on her that the other woman didn’t want getting out. “So what were you supposed to do? Slip something into her coffee? Substitute a file during a presentation?” Andrea asked her questions gently, wanting to keep the filters down on the emotionally conflicted woman who had been lulled into full cooperation by the power of the confession and an additional chocolate pudding cup.  
  
“Before the James Holt luncheon on Thursday, I was supposed to fill the hall with freesias so that Miranda would leave in a rage.” Emily shook her head. “I’m not sure if they just want her out of the hall when they make their next round of announcements, or if they want her outside at a certain time.”  
  
Andrea tried to think of scenarios that a conniving businessman, like Irving Ravitz, would try for. She knew it came down to how frustrated or desperate he had become—was he out to embarrass her, like Miranda suggested with faked nude photos, or was he after her job, or given that he was willing to blackmail an assistant, did he want her out of the room so she would be away from everyone else at a designated time. “Or he wants her in a certain place.” Her eyes wide, Andrea turned to Emily. “How many times has he plotted against Miranda? How hateful is he at this point?”  
  
Her eyes flashing a blue fire, Emily was outraged. “You think he wants to get rid of her? Get her outside the hall at a certain time so that something—” Her words trailed off as she covered her mouth with her hand. He face went pale and she wriggled uncomfortably in her hospital bed as if looking for an exit and being trapped by her own leg.  
  
Grabbing the trashcan from the corner of the room, Andrea held it out to her and put her hand on the distraught woman’s shoulder. “Hey, it’ll be all right. That’s why you and I are going to figure out what he was up to.”  
  
After several minutes, Emily’s face returned to its normal color and she flopped back against the pillows, suddenly exhausted. “I don’t know what he’s capable of. I just know that he’s been against her for years and has never won. I know he has some deals he has been working on with Jacqueline Follet.” At the brunette’s blank look, she added, “She’s the editor of French Runway.”  
  
Andrea shifted in her seat before she asked her next question, “Does he attend fashion week? He’s the CEO of Elias-Clark, but that barely has anything to do with fashion week itself, right?”  
  
Flipping the straw in her cup around, Emily sighed. “With the business deals that he’s working on, he’s supposed to attend the James Holt luncheon. Massimo is investing in James Holt to take it international. Nigel doesn’t think I know, but he’s going to work with him.”  
  
Biting her lip, Andrea wondered about this detail. If Nigel had kept it from Emily would he also keep it from Miranda? Vowing to get as much information as she could from the red head, Andrea knew that she’d be going to Paris again sooner than she thought. “How does his deal with Jacqueline fit into all of this? Massimo invests and takes James Holt international with Nigel at the helm, but where does she fit?”  
  
Frowning, Emily shrugged. “They don’t seem to go together.”  
  
Standing to pace the small room a bit, Andrea wondered out loud. “What is it that Jacqueline would want? She’s already the editor of French Runway and I’m assuming she’s French?”  
  
Emily pressed the button to sit up more in the bed. She winced when she had to adjust her hips to accommodate the unnatural position of her leg. “She’s French alright. American Runway has more prestige than French Runway because Miranda has been the driving force in fashion for years. Jacqueline has always wanted three things: to be Miranda, to be with Miranda, and to claw her eyes out. I don’t know when it started or whether they were ever on better terms, but Irv loves to play up the tension between them.”  
  
Crossing her arms over her chest, Andrea fixed Emily with a triumphant look. “Does Irv know that you didn’t go to Paris? They left today, does he think you went with the Runway crew?” When the red head shook her head, Andrea nodded. “We can use that to learn more about what’s going on, as long as he doesn’t know you’re still in New York.”  
  
Swallowing hard, Emily shook her head sadly. “No, international calls ring differently. It’s not a big deal, but it is noticeable, if you know about it.”  
  
Tapping her lips with her fingertip, Andrea stepped close to the side of the bed. “Well, you could offer to get the new girl to do your part of the job, maybe ask him for more information. See how he reacts. He’ll have to do something to get his plan back into place or he’ll have to abandon it.” Andrea clenched her hands at her sides. “Miranda said he had never involved an assistant in his shenanigans before.”  
  
Tears welling in her eyes, Emily spluttered, “Miranda knows?”  
  
Realizing what she’d let slip Andrea grimaced. “She knows that you were relieved to not have to do whatever it was that Irv had coerced you into doing.” At Emily’s gob-smacked look, the brunette continued on. “You were pretty clear when you were talking in your pain and shock. I put enough of it together based on what you said and who you were.” Emily’s face was still pale, so Andrea added. “Miranda will be thankful for your help in figuring this out, Emily. I’m sure of it.”  
  
Letting the tears fall down her cheeks unhindered, Emily sobbed, “I won’t be able to work with her anymore.”  
  
Settling down in the chair again, Andrea smiled at her. “Your time was almost up, so you’ll just move on like you would have anyway, Emily.”  
  
Scowling at the brunette, Emily asked her, “Are you always so calm and, well, cheerful?”  
  
Laughing at that, Andrea shook her head. “Oh no. Far from it. However I have learned that panic and rushing about doesn’t serve me well either.” Breathing in deeply and then letting it out, she clapped her hands together. “Now, did your cell phone make it here or do we need to get another one for you?” Then with a wicked gleam in her eyes, Andrea offered, “If I have to go get you a phone then I can pick us up lunch. I know you fashion types aren’t big on eating, but I saw your love of chocolate pudding for myself. I will bring back the best slice of chocolate cake in New York. I promise.” The rest of the day was spent in planning, eating, and moving forward with their plans.

 

 

...


	6. What Did You Promise?

_**Chosen by Fire. Part 6/7.**_  
  
Knocking on Miranda’s hotel door, Andrea looked up and down the hallway. It didn’t matter if anyone saw her, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be noticed either. When she had counted to thirty and she had knocked louder, the young brunette began to worry that she hadn’t waited long enough. Perhaps Miranda had stayed at the evening’s event longer than usual. Andrea wasn’t sure what to do in that event. She supposed that she should have called ahead, but she wanted to see Miranda not just talk to her.  
  
“Who’s there?” Miranda’s quiet voice was barely audible through the door.  
  
“It’s Andy.” She announced herself loud enough to be heard, but not so loud that she’d disturb anyone else.  
  
The door opened to reveal a clean-faced Miranda, her hair soft now that it was free of hairspray, and wrapped in a grey bathrobe. “What is it?” She asked before reaching out and pulling Andrea in by her arm. “Come in, come in.”  
  
Pulling the older woman into her arms, Andrea kissed her tenderly. Stepping back when the kiss drew to a natural end, Andrea looked her love over. “I like you best like this.” At Miranda’s questioning look, Andrea blushed and added, “I like you when you are scrubbed clean from the day and ready to enjoy the evening or go to bed.” Kissing her again because she could, the brunette followed up her thought. “I also like waking up next to you this way before the day has begun and you are still mine.”  
  
Rubbing her nose against Andrea’s, the older woman smiled. “You should write poetry and not newspaper articles.”  
  
Answering her compliment with a smile, Andrea took her girlfriend by the hand and moved them into the sitting area of the room where she sat down and patted the cushion next to her. “I’ve spent a lot of time with Emily today and wanted to update you.”  
  
Settling on the couch, Miranda tucked a leg up underneath her and turned so she was facing Andrea. “I still can’t believe she turned on me.” Her words were quiet with their disappointment.  
  
Andrea patted her love’s knee. “I don’t know what he has on her, but he blackmailed her.” When Miranda made to object, the brunette raised her hand so that she’d hold on. “You should have seen how quick she was to tell me everything about him and how upset she was that she had been used to betray you, even in some small way.”  
  
Miranda propped an elbow on the back of the couch and leaned her head against it. Her facial expression was dark. “I’m just supposed to forgive her, is that it?”  
  
Grimacing because she knew Miranda’s work reputation was well-founded Andrea shrugged. “I can’t tell you what to do, but if he didn’t have anything on her, then she would have been loyal to you.” Andrea looked into those stormy blue eyes wondering what she was thinking about. “I figure she’s helping me to figure out what the rest of Irv’ plan is and her time with you is almost over anyway. Perhaps she just gets to move on.”  
  
Miranda sat up straight, her foot sliding out from under her as she shifted to settle on the floor. “What do you mean she’s helping you?” Those blue eyes shifted from place to place without focus, as she seemed to be processing the brunette’s words. “The rest of Irv’s plan?” Breathing in deeply and then letting it out slowly, she quietly requested, “I think you’d better tell me what it is she was supposed to do and how she’s ‘ _helping_ ’ you now.”  
  
Relieved that Miranda had moved into a more receptive place already Andrea began. “Emily was supposed to make sure that the hall was full of freesias before the James Holt luncheon. She was supposed to make sure you were on time, so that when you freaked out about the freesias, you would cause a bit of a scene and then storm out in disgust.” Andrea watched as Miranda tried to work out the benefit of this plan. “She didn’t know anything else, but it stuck in her mind that Irv had seemed very concerned about the timing of this.”  
  
Pursing her lips, the white haired woman revealed her conclusion based on this information. “Either he wants me out of the luncheon or he wants me storming out alone the same way that I came in.”  
  
Nodding her agreement, Andrea jumped back in. “That’s where Emily is trying to help us. Irv didn’t know that she had been hit and didn’t accompany you to Paris, since he is only planning to go in time for the luncheon. She’s trying to play the part of wanting to help him with his plan, by offering to have the second assistant play her role or do something else. If she can get him to reveal a little more, then I can update you.”  
  
Rolling her eyes at this, Miranda sighed. “It’s just all so vague. She didn’t know anything else?”  
  
Shrugging, Andrea shook her head. “No, she said that he’s always wanted you out of your position.”  
  
Standing, Miranda tapped her lips with her fingertips and then headed toward the bedroom. “I’ll have to bring Nigel in on this. Do you want to stay while we troubleshoot?”  
  
Intercepting her love before she could enter the closet, Andrea wrapped her arms around Miranda’s bare body from behind. “I’ll leave you to your work.” Andrea rubbed her lips against Miranda’s bare shoulders. Sleeping in the nude, cuddling, some caressing—were all forms of intimacy that they had slowly embraced together. However Miranda always stopped things before they could escalate beyond those parameters. So Andrea greedily touched, kissed, and mapped the feel of Miranda’s skin, the intersection of their bodies sliding together, and the way each encounter brought out new sounds from each of them. “Just a few minutes.” She murmured below Miranda’s earlobe. She let her fingers spread wide so that she could claim more territory on Miranda’s chest and further below.  
  
“Andrea.” Closing her eyes, Miranda involuntarily leaned her head back to rest on the younger woman’s shoulder. As much as she longed for the beautiful brunette’s touch, she also tried to guard herself against it. She wanted Andrea to have as much time as possible. She wanted Andrea to be as certain as she was before they took that next step towards intimacy. Sighing so low and rumbly that it was almost a moan, Miranda breathed deep basking in the feel of those fingertips seeking ever more of her skin. Her nipples had hardened into points revealing the same arousal that pulsed between Miranda’s legs pooling at the apex of her thighs. “You have to stop.”  
  
Biting Miranda’s neck where her pulse fluttered, Andrea flexed her fingers into fists, but left them against the older woman’s skin. “Waiting for you to catch up is painful, Miranda.” Groaning the older woman turned and kissed the side of Andrea’s face. When her hands reached Andrea’s she pulled them to wrap around her in a hug that was still close, but somehow held less sensuality. “Is this how you felt waiting for me to understand my feelings?” Andrea entwined her fingers with Miranda’s letting her know she would continue to seek her out despite her frustration.  
  
“No, yes,” Miranda sighed and pulled away from Andrea so that she could face her. “We didn’t speak for chunks of time while you came into your own, Andrea. It was different than this closeness of heading toward the same place and knowing it. I love you, my dear,” her blue eyes searched Andrea’s intently. “I guess I just need to see you in this new way for a while to let it become real instead of something I could be imagining after all that time.”  
  
Swallowing hard at the intensity in those blue eyes, Andrea nodded. She felt kind of lightheaded. Miranda had never spelled her feelings out quite so plainly before. “I love you, Miranda. I’ll let you catch up to me, since you waited so long before.” Kissing her fully on the lips, Andrea pressed their bodies close together again, but this time she did not allow her hands to tease. Letting the kiss end slowly, with small kisses following it like aftershocks, Andrea smiled. “Say hi to Nigel.”  
  
Rolling her eyes, Miranda scoffed, “I should never have introduced the two of you.”  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Yawning when her alarm went off, Andrea greeted Patricia at her feet. Sleep had been a long time coming, but as her brain registered everything she had been working on awareness kicked in. “Your mother is going to be so mad that I let you up here while she was gone.” The Saint Bernard blinked her big eyes at Andrea. “When she’s here will you promise not to get up on the bed? I don’t want to have to sleep in your bed when she finds out.” Scratching behind the dog’s ears, Andrea hoped that her love had been able to get some rest. Fashion week with her second assistant couldn’t be relaxing. Adding in the stress of figuring out the CEO’s plan against her and it just was a recipe for stress reactions.  
  
Heading downstairs to start the coffee, Andrea pondered what she should do next. Emily had given her as much information as she could and wouldn’t have anything new to update right away. She could follow up with the cab driver story finding out what happened to him on the legal end of things, contacting the cab company, and perhaps exploring the ideas of the impact these kinds of accidents had on the industry as a whole. Unable to pull her mind away from what was going on with Miranda, the brunette wondered about what she could do. Refilling the dog’s water dish, Andrea gasped and nearly spilled the cold water on her bare feet. “I have access to Miranda’s office, so I could get to Irv. I wonder what preparations he’s taking care of today with his trip the next day and the luncheon the day after that?”  
  
Patricia barked at her once and Andrea scratched her ears.  
  
“Oh, you need a treat to go with breakfast, don’t you?” Andrea smiled as the large dog followed her with her eyes and sat quite still to demonstrate her patience and good training. Andrea handed the treat over pleased that the big dog didn’t slobber all over her hand. “Good girl.”  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Smiling as she looked around Miranda’s office, the brunette contemplated moving things or leaving a note, but then thought she better focus on her intelligence gathering mission instead. Staying close to the walls, pausing to listen to the sounds around her, and making sure to keep her steps quiet Andrea made her way to the stairwell and then up to the executive floor. Thankfully the doors to the stairs were largely ignored and positioned behind the bathrooms out of everyone’s way. As she slipped into Irv Ravitz’s office, Andrea realized that she probably could have just walked normally. Being invisible would have been cover enough on the floor that held the boardroom, chairman’s office and a few other top ranking officials like the chief financial officer.  
  
Pausing in the secretary’s area, Andrea listened as the little man at the big desk went through his itinerary with his secretary. When the mundane details seemed to know no end, Andrea went ahead and wandered into the office and stood near the big windows so she could look out. His office faced in a different direction than Miranda’s and the younger woman found herself smirking because she thought Miranda’s view and afternoon light was better than this man’s big fancy office.  
  
His phone rang causing Andrea to turn to watch him. He had narrowed his eyes at the device, but had reached for it anyway. “Thank you, Marlene.” He nodded at his secretary before turning his attention to the handset. “You’re not supposed to call this line.”  
  
Intrigued Andrea edged closer hoping to be able to pick up more of the conversation, or perhaps see any notes that he jotted down. He was not pleased about the call in the slightest and kept looking toward the door as if wishing that it would shut on its own.  
  
“I know she changed assistants.” He hissed into the line. Andrea wished like anything that she could hear what he was responding to. “The red head called me from the hospital. She was hit by a car of all things.” His tone of voice made it clear that he wasn’t certain the young woman hadn’t done it on purpose. Though he couldn’t exactly argue with her from the hospital. He’d have to just get his revenge on her later for failing him. Andrea made a mental note to warn Emily. “No, no. Everything will go as planned. She will be in the right place at the right time.” He groaned and rolled his eyes. Letting out an aggrieved sigh like he was talking to a particularly slow child, he explained. “She said she’d tell the assistant to have the hall full of freesias because they are Miranda’s favorite flower.” He hummed and shifted in his seat as he listened. “Yes, I thought it was brilliant too. The new girl would never question a thing like that. I wish I had thought of it years ago.”  
  
Apparently the person was just checking in on the plan, because after this reassurance the caller made their goodbyes quickly. Irv turned to his computer and squinted in the morning light, having to adjust his screen and eventually go over and close the thin blinds enough to block the sun’s rays. With another smirk, Andrea wandered out of his office. Emily’s story had been corroborated, even if she hadn’t learned any other new details. Heading back to the Runway floor, Andrea thought that it might be worth checking on Irv’s office again later to see if she could poke around on his computer while he was in a meeting. At least she wouldn’t need the shade once the sun had gone around to the other side of the building in the afternoon.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Swinging by the Mirror offices, Andrea checked on her story about the implications of pedestrian, bike messenger, and other vehicle accidents on the taxis of New York. Her email showed statistics that had been returned to her from her requests through the hospitals and the police department detailing statistics of patients, traffic accidents, and arrests in the previous year. Before lunch she was able to draft out her set of questions to follow up on and she had created a list of people she wanted to interview for the story.  
  
With her stomach grumbling, Andrea gave her temporary boss a head’s up on her plans and headed out. She knew that Emily might not eat much, but that another slice of that chocolate cake would not get turned down. She wasn’t sure if she had made a friend yet, but she knew at least she had an ally in the fight to figure out Irv Ravitz’s plan against Miranda.  
  
“You aren’t going to eat that Jell-o, are you?” Andrea didn’t laugh as she greeted the red head from the door of her hospital room, but it was a near thing.  
  
“Oh! You’re back.” Emily waved her in wriggling on the spot in her excitement. “You didn’t give me your number so I had no way to get a hold of you.”  
  
Pulling the to-go container with the chocolate cake out of the bag and setting it on the food tray, Andrea smiled at the injured woman. “So you did miss me.” She laughed as she pulled out the fork and watched Emily’s blue eyes light up. “Here I thought you just wanted the chocolate cake.” She held the fork just out of reach as Emily extended her arm. Then seeing the fire in the woman’s eyes, Andrea quickly handed the fork over. “Okay, okay. Me  ** _and_**  the chocolate cake then.”  
  
Emily took her first forkful and savored it for a few moments on her tongue before chewing and swallowing. “Yes, Andrea, I missed you.” Emily rolled her eyes and took another bite of the cake. “Don’t ever tell me where to get this. I will never forgive you if you do.”  
  
Chuckling at that statement, Andrea pulled the chair close to the bed again. “Where’s your phone? I’ll put my number in while you have your moment of chocolate euphoria.”  
  
Tossing the new go phone from the tray to her companion, Emily ignored her and focused on the cake.  
  
Since she had a few extra minutes, Andrea decided to see what all the red head had put on her phone since she left her the previous evening. “Do you have all of this in the cloud?” She asked as she scrolled through number after number.  
  
Emily nodded, “What I didn’t have already, I had Chelsea send me.”  
  
Stretching to put the phone up on the tray, Andrea then leaned back to get as comfortable as she could in the plastic hospital chair. “That’s her name.” She laughed as she realized that even though she had known the other assistant’s name, she had kept calling her Emily in her mind since Miranda did. It was amusing, though she was certain if it had been her, then she would have been royally pissed at Miranda for such horrible behavior.  
  
Pushing the food tray away from her, Emily adjusted her bed with the controller. “That reminds me. I called Irv. At first he was furious that I had backed out. He kept threatening me. Then I told him that I could get the new girl to do what he had wanted me to do.” Andrea nodded as Emily spoke figuring that she had already heard this story from Irv’s re-telling. “I offered to have the new girl get the freesias for Miranda as a special treat since they are her favorite flower.” Emily swallowed as she thought of Miranda’s reaction to walking into a room full of the flower’s she loathed, but knew that at least this way she would know what was coming. The red head just hoped that besting Irv would be enough for Miranda to temporarily overcome her flower hatred. “He kept asking me how good she was at her job and how fast she had been given the levels of responsibilities. He wanted to know how organized she was and whether she could keep Miranda on her schedule.” Leaning closer to Andrea in what was likely an uncomfortable position, Emily stressed her next point. “He seemed very keen on the schedule and timing, Andrea. He wants her to be in position at a certain time.”  
  
Pondering the importance of this, Andrea’s eyes went wide. “This isn’t about embarrassing her or taking her job at all. This is about getting her angry so she’s not focused and then alone where she will be vulnerable.”  
  
Emily gasped in shock, “What are you saying, Andrea?”  
  
Shaking her head against the horrible thoughts rushing through her mind, Andrea whispered. “You kidnap someone you can hold ransom. You hurt or torture someone you want to break. You eliminate someone you despise, covet, or want to prove ultimate victory over.”  
  
Tears in her eyes, Emily swallowed back the feeling of the chocolate cake sitting heavy in her stomach. She wished she had never eaten the treat, as the sudden darkness of Andrea’s words seemed to gain momentum and the ring of truth in her mind. “She only has her ex-husband. No one to pay a ransom.”  
  
Standing, Andrea’s brown eyes locked on Emily’s teary blue ones. “Hurt or eliminate.” Blinking hard to control the tears in her own eyes, Andrea staggered backwards. “I have to go, Emily.” She ran into the doorframe in her mind-boggled haste to leave. Ducking into the bathroom at the end of the hall, Andrea was in Miranda’s suite in seconds.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
“Andrea?” Miranda could not believe her eyes as she left the bathroom to see who had entered her room. Chelsea the newest assistant had never been that quiet in her life, but she was the only other person with a key. Seeing the dark hair on top of Andrea’s profile, Miranda had relaxed slightly. “Andrea?” She called out to her younger love with concern in her voice the second time.  
  
“Hurt or eliminate, Miranda.” Andrea’s large eyes were frantic as they looked Miranda over and over as if searching for evidence of trauma already.  
  
Clasping Andrea’s hand, Miranda pulled her over to the couch. “You’ll have to explain, darling.”  
  
Andrea cleared her throat and then seemed to focus on Miranda. “He can’t ransom you. He wants you out of the luncheon at a certain time, so he must be planning to hurt you or eliminate you.”  
  
Knowing that the younger woman was not prone to dramatics, Miranda still found it difficult to fathom that the man she had worked mostly against, even though she technically worked for him, could be planning to physically harm her or worse. “What makes you so certain, Andrea?”  
  
Reaching up, Andrea touched Miranda’s cheek with her fingertips. “I spied on Irv today. I heard him talking to someone about the plan. He assured the person that you would be in the right place at the right time. He said that even without Emily that the plan would be successful.”  
  
Leaning close to Andrea, the white haired woman whispered, “How did you hear Irv, Andrea?” Her tone held a note of caution.  
  
“I was invisible in his office.” Andrea figured that she would keep her answer simple.  
  
Closing her eyes against the worry she had for her love, Miranda shook her head. “I can’t believe you did that.”  
  
Squeezing Miranda’s hand in her own, Andrea forged on with the tale. “I went back to check on Emily and she had talked to him like we had planned for her to do. She used that call to get more information from him. He kept focusing on your schedule and whether the new assistant could keep you on schedule. Emily told Chelsea that freesias are your favorite flower that way the place will be full of them and you’ll freak out and leave at the time he wants you to leave.”  
  
Still reluctant to think that the man would plan to physically harm her, Miranda shook her head. “He just wants me out of the luncheon so that he can fabricate public announcements that are to be made about Holt International and Runway. He wants Jacqueline to be the new editor of American Runway.”  
  
Andrea agreed with that. “Yeah, that makes sense, but he can’t just tell people you’re quitting or whatever. Otherwise you’ll fight him back and win, which will really upset him. No, Miranda, he wants you to not be able to ever fight back again. I’m certain of it.” Andrea slipped to her knees on the floor in front of Miranda. “He’s not planning a prank, Miranda. I know he’s not.”  
  
Breathing in deeply and thinking things over and over in her head, Miranda tried to see the evidence she had gathered in Paris through this possible new lens. “I talked to Jacqueline this afternoon.” When Andrea flopped down to sit on the back of her heels, Miranda continued. “Really, Nigel and I cornered her after Stella McCartney. She gave up everything. Irv has been offering her American Runway like a carrot. He had promised that by the end of fashion week it would be hers.”  
  
Andrea adjusted her legs to settle more fully on the floor. “Miranda everyone knows that you would fight to the death for Runway. I don’t know anything about fashion or magazines, but I know you. If Jacqueline believed that you wouldn’t be at Runway, then she had to have a reason. Either he told her some lie about you retiring or something, or she’s in on his plan.”  
  
Standing in one fluid motion Miranda swept across the room to her cell phone. “I’ll ask her. She has never been able to lie to my face.” Scrolling through her phone for a few moments, Miranda then pressed the screen and held the device out to face her. Andrea heard the ringing and then the greeting as the call was connected. “Jacqueline.” Miranda’s voice had gone this syrupy sweet that caused Andrea to smack her lips in disgust. “I want Irving to think he has won, ma Cherie. Tell me what he told you about Runway.”  
  
Andrea fought the urge to run up and look at the woman on the tiny screen from Miranda’s shoulder. Instead she slipped quietly back up onto the couch as she listened. “Miranda, as I told you, Irving said you would be resigning.”  
  
Choosing her words as carefully as ever, Miranda followed up with her next question. “How did he convince you that I would be resigning, hmmm?”  
  
Jacqueline seemed to think for a moment over this answer and then offered, “He said that you would not be at James’ luncheon and that you would not be an issue anymore after that.” When Miranda kept silent as she pondered the French woman’s words, Jacqueline continued on. “You know I just want to come to New York. I told him that you would never resign. I think he has played an awful trick on the both of us.”  
  
Sucking her teeth three times, Miranda corrected the other woman easily. “Now, now. Remember, we’ve solved that problem. You will be coming with James to New York. Nigel will be taking on French Runway. I will keep American Runway. The joke will be on him. Yes?”  
  
Andrea thought her jaw had dropped on the first statement, but she knew it had become completely unhinged by the time she had finished speaking.  
  
“Yes, yes. Miranda. You always have been so good at foiling him.” Jacqueline seemed amused by the fact that Miranda always had the upper hand.  
  
“I will see you tomorrow then.” Miranda signaled the end of the conversation and ended the call.  
  
For many moments Miranda stood in thought then she calmly moved over to the couch and sat down next to Andrea. “I think you’re right, Andrea.” Her words were hollow sounding and sent a shiver up Andrea’s spine. “I won’t be at the luncheon and I won’t be an issue.”  
  
Wrapping her arms around her love, Andrea repeated over and over. “We will stop him.”  
  
*** *** ***  
  
They had called everyone that they could think of to alert them about a security issue. However they had not been able to give either the gendarmes or the fashion week organizers a story that really made sense or explained the threat they were worried about. So what if there were internal struggles within Elias-Clark and even the factions of Runway? Conflict made the world go round, so what were they to do watch everyone, everywhere? Well, that was always what they were doing. Andrea and Miranda had curled up on the couch for a pause in the morning preparations. “Andrea, you need to go back to New York.” The quiet whisper of her words against Andrea’s skin caused the younger woman to shiver.  
  
“How can I possibly go when we don’t know what he has planned?” The brunette pulled away from her far too alluring love, so that she could be properly petulant. Skin against skin and Andrea would lose every time.  
  
Sighing, Miranda rested her arm along the back of the couch and bent at the elbow to rest her head against her palm. “Andrea, I won’t be able to concentrate and do what needs doing if I am worried about you.” With her free hand she reached for Andrea’s and clasped their fingers together in her lap. “You will come first and then our planning will be for nothing.”  
  
Knowing that she wasn’t winning, Andrea huffed, but did not release Miranda’s hand. “You could focus on your plan and I could focus on that jackass, Irv.”  
  
Moving her legs and shifting her body, Miranda slid one leg behind the brunette and the other over her lap as she scooted closer. Wrapping her arms around the woman she loved, the white haired woman kissed her neck sweetly. “I promise not to arrive at the scheduled entrance. I promise not to storm out of the luncheon no matter how many of those damned flowers they have. I also promise to not leave alone or the same way that I came in.” Pulling away, Miranda waited for Andrea to look into her eyes so that she could take stock of her truth. “Irv only introduces me and then I give a speech. Let me tell you, what Nigel, Jacqueline, and I came up with will take whatever wind is in his sails right out, before he even gets his real turn.”  
  
Flexing her fingers into fists and then relaxing them again against Miranda’s thigh in her lap, Andrea breathes deep and then lets it out slowly. “I will be a wreck until I hear from you.” Andrea blinked back tears and kept her eyes focused away from Miranda. “You will call me the minute you are safely away from that luncheon.”  
  
With one fingertip at her chin, the older woman turned Andrea’s face to look up at her. “I promise.”  
  
Closing her eyes on the painful acceptance of her dismissal, the pretty twenty year old murmured. “You better call.”  
  
*** *** ***  
  
“I wondered how long you’d hold out.” The quite male voice startled Andrea as soon as she took in her new surroundings.  
  
“Oh, Nigel! You scared me.” Andrea held her hand over her fluttering heart, before she stepped closer to where he was sitting on the couch.  
  
“I was beginning to think that you’d convinced her. I was going to head back to get ready for the luncheon.” Nigel seemed impressed and amused.  
  
Shifting her weight to her right side, Andrea looked at him in wonder. “I didn’t win. I just stayed as long as I could.”  
  
Standing with a smile, Nigel held a finger up to her for a point. “What did you promise, is the question?” His eyes twinkled and the younger woman wasn’t sure what to make of it.  
  
“I promised to go to New York.” Andrea muttered.  
  
Joining her, Nigel tucked his arm into hers. “And you did.” He waved his hand around them at the living room of the Manhattan townhouse. Then in a move, she hadn’t seen, he had a lighter in his hand. “Come on.”  
  
In a blink they were upstairs and he was dragging her to the closet. “Nigel, when have you been in this room?” Andrea wasn’t sure whether she was more shocked that he had taken her upstairs or that he had been here before.  
  
“Clock is ticking, Andrea. You want to go to this luncheon, don’t you?” He fixed her with a knowing look. “Take off those clothes, you slouch, and we’ll get you sorted so that you’ll fit right in.”  
  
Gasping, Andrea watched as the man flipped through Miranda’s closet as if he had always been allowed to. “I can’t fit in! Miranda will flip.”  
  
Turning with a killer pair of trousers and a low button down blouse, Nigel smirked. “Well, good thing she won’t see you, unless she needs to then, hmm?”  
  
Shaking her head as his words sank in, Andrea reached for her shirt and pulled it up and over her head. “She’s going to be furious.” She muttered more to herself than to Nigel as she kicked off her shoes and then shimmied out of her jeans.

 

 

...


	7. Chosen by Fire

**_Chosen by Fire. Part 7/7._**  
  
Watching from the periphery, Andrea realized that this was the first time she really had a chance to see Miranda’s world. Of course, she looked at the magazine over the years and she paid attention when fashion made the news at six o’clock, but to see the movers and shakers of this world circling each other with a million miniature schemes and alliances and grievances was completely different. The energy in the room absolutely pulsed as different people arrived and shifted their attentions. Irv Ravitz had been as early as Andrea. While Nigel had arrived amidst a flurry of activity and taken his seat with a wave to a dark-skinned fellow a couple of tables over who was sitting with a woman with short dark hair and a toothy smile.  
  
When Miranda arrived she cut through the crowd like a shark, pausing to assess the crowd for possible prey and other predators, before quickly moving to her destination. Nigel stood to greet her with air kisses to each cheek. Andrea had to fight off the giggles when Snoop Dogg also stood and moved to greet the fashion queen. Idly Andrea wondered if a million people would kill for the job as Miranda’s assistant, how many would kill for a seat at her table or an air kiss and half smile? Then she wondered if they should use that idea as a fundraiser for Runway, since Irving was always so worried about the damn budget. Miranda could charge people for the seats at her table and the apparent favor that would impart to them. Almost losing her mind completely, Andrea likened the fashion maven’s white hair to Santa’s and wondered if it would be too much to have a photo op as well.  
  
The new assistant sat next to Nigel in obvious distress. ‘ _She hates Freesias! What was Emily thinking?!_ ’ The invisible brunette thought that was probably what the young woman was fretting about, but her lip-reading skills weren’t the greatest. Nigel had simply patted the girl on the shoulder and poured her an early glass of wine.  
  
Andrea looked around the room noting that many eyes were on Miranda. From Nigel’s interaction with the assistant and his general demeanor as he looked around, the young woman assumed this was a normal amount of attention. To watch the woman command a room by walking through it, greeting her table companions, and sitting down—well, it took Andrea’s breath away to see the power that the beautiful woman she had slowly come to know over the last four years commanded. The younger woman hoped that her love’s counter-scheming would be all that was needed, but Andrea knew there was no way she was going to leave after having glimpsed Miranda in all of her fashion glory.  
  
Creeping closer to Irving’s table, Andrea noted the rigid posture, pulsing vein in his neck, and dark eyes focused on Miranda’s back. She wondered how no one else seemed to notice his odd behavior—not even the people at his table. Then she realized that a couple seats were still empty and the other people at his table were entirely focused on each other and the scene around them. While Miranda’s table seemed to focus on her and others in the vicinity, Irv’s table wouldn’t have noticed if he had gotten up to do a dance on his chair.  
  
“She was supposed to storm out.” Andrea heard him mutter to himself once she was close enough to hear him. “Why is she still sitting there?” He continued to angrily spout his thoughts as he focused his attention in the direction of the table Nigel had waved to upon entering. “She was supposed to storm out.” He returned to watching Miranda and her companions.  
  
Andrea wasn’t sure where to place herself once the event began, so she moved from place to place as time passed. Irv made his way up to the podium practically radiating his anger. Miranda joined him with twinkling blue eyes and a small smile that she couldn’t quite hide from him. He stood to the side as she spoke into the microphone.  
  
When she introduced each of the key players, his bearing and posture became more agitated as they stood for the crowd and then gave Miranda a wink up at the podium. Andrea flexed her fingers into fists to be ready as Miranda stepped in front of the irate man to return to her table in victory—Jacqueline Follet would head to New York where James Holt International would be based; taking over for her at French Runway would be Nigel Kipling, Miranda’s right hand as she climbed the ladder and made Runway into the flagship publication that it was today. Irving fumbled for words as he stepped up to the podium after that, but with all eyes on him, he managed to deliver a truncated and modified version of the speech he had prepared—dropping all mentions of Miranda leaving Runway or Jacqueline taking her place.  
  
Even not knowing all the details, Andrea could feel the shift in the room and could pick up on the thrill of victory from those involved on Miranda’s end of things as they tipped their heads to each other or raised a glass in salute.  
  
Speeches concluded, the wait staff began to flit around the tables pouring drinks and delivering salads and then entrees. People at the tables turned to their food and conversations about the week and the various announcements just made. It was a big day for James Holt as his line went international with the approval of so many fashion heads in attendance.  
  
Massimo stood while the wait staff scurried about retrieving the dishes and delivering the desserts. Clinking his fork against his glass he called for everyone’s attention, “I want to publicly thank Miranda Priestly for all that she does for fashion, both behind the scenes and in the pages of Runway.”  
  
Everyone around raised their glasses and chorused, “To Miranda.”  
  
Irv dropped his glass and knocked it over while everyone else was focused on the two fashion power players. “That bitch!” He cursed to himself as he reached for his ankle and fumbled about for a few moments.  
  
Making herself visible with quietly murmured words, Andrea rushed between tables to intercept the angry little man as he approached Miranda with a small pistol in his hand. “I’ll end that Priestly bitch once and for all.” He hissed loudly as he closed in on Miranda.  
  
All attention in the room turned on the seething man approaching the white-haired editor. People gasped and some leaned away in their chairs to get away from the spectacle, but none stood to intervene as he extended his arm toward her with his finger on the trigger. “Die.” The enraged man hissed at a shocked Miranda.  
  
Just as he squeezed the mechanism to fire, Andrea reached his arm and hit it up to send the shot safely into the ceiling of the large hall. Gasping as he realized a clacker had thwarted his shot, Irving swung his pistol filled fist at her face. Andrea fell back as Irving advanced on her with all of the focus of his rage on her because she had interfered. Miranda began moving as he rounded on the young brunette who shouldn’t be there. Andrea regained her balance and hit him twice causing him to drop the gun. Behind him, Miranda grabbed his arm and his shoulder. Guiding him with the force of her whole body and righteous indignation the editor of American Runway pinned the conniving CEO of Elias-Clark face down into someone’s abandoned dessert plate.  
  
Security rushed in and took over at that point. Nigel directed one of them toward the gun, while the others secured the little man with zip ties around his wrists. Quickly they marched him out of the tent to a holding area of some kind. Miranda watched him go to make sure that he would not be returning, and then turned her focus on her savior.  
  
“Andrea. He could have killed you.” She pulled the other woman close to her and just searched her face with her eyes for long moments.  
  
“The point is that he didn’t kill you.” The brunette stubbornly pointed out what was most important to her.  
  
The crowd clapped and shouted questions at them, but they only had eyes for each other.  
  
***  
  
_Accusations of Corporate Espionage Revealed After Thwarted Assassination Attempt  
  
For the first time ever actual shots rang out during Paris Fashion week today at the James Holt International Launch Luncheon. The always passionate fashion crowd has had its share of scandals and intrigue over the years, but never before had that escalated into an actual murder attempt. Witnesses all agreed that Irving Ravitz, CEO of Elias-Clark, told Miranda Priestly, editor of American Runway magazine, to, “Die.” A young brunette diverted the shot meant for the famous editor, while Priestly impressively subdued him with some moves no one had suspected the fashion maven to possess. Questions abounded about the mystery woman until the brunette was later identified as a temporary bodyguard hired by Priestly because of a suspected corporate espionage plot against her. The indefatigable fashion queen continued on to the afternoon’s fashion show as if nothing had happened, although her attractive bodyguard and a handful of gendarmes joined her entourage. Ravitz is in custody on charges of attempted murder, assault and battery. It is unknown whether he will be extradited to the United States pending investigation into possible involvement in corporate espionage._  
  
***  
  
By the time they were in the car heading to the hotel for the night, they had given their statements, spoken to the press, and tightly held onto their composure. Finally, in the quiet of the back seat, they were able to breathe a sigh of relief. They had passed punch-drunk a couple of hours ago, but no one had caught on. They were too afraid to talk to them not knowing what to say or intimidated by the gendarmes and the bodyguard. Miranda had joked at one point that they should have staged an assassination attempt years ago, since it would have done wonders for her reputation. Rubbing his baldhead, Nigel had laughed. Frowning on the other side of her, Andrea shushed her for even saying such a thing.  
  
As they passed landmarks and the French Runway building, Nigel had giddily prattled on about passing sidewalk cafes on his way to work every morning or being able to escape to the top of Montmartre to take in the views when the city was wearing on him. “This is my home now.” He smiled widely and they had teased him in English as well as French.  
  
“I will miss you, Nigel.” Miranda had admitted quietly.  
  
Kissing the white-haired woman on the cheek, he had cheekily remarked back, “What was it you told Andy? Location doesn’t matter too much if you have firelight.”  
  
Giggling, Andrea had kissed Miranda’s other cheek and chirped, “And cell phones.”  
  
Shaking her head at the pair of them, Miranda had muttered, “I never should have introduced you two.”  
  
***  
  
Once they were alone in the hotel suite, the silence had wrapped around them like a blanket. Andrea pulled Miranda with her into the bedroom. “You promised to go home.” Miranda scolded the brunette even as she copied her and kicked out of her shoes and began to divest herself of her clothes.  
  
Pulling a panty-clad Miranda against her body, Andrea kissed her fully on the lips. Her hands pressed their bodies together and they both gasped at the heat between them and deepened the kiss. Eventually slowing the kiss down to breathe, Andrea stepped back toward the bed taking Miranda down on the covers with her. “I did go home.” They mutually adjusted their position without discussing it, each craving the touch of the other in a way they never had before. “Didn’t you recognize my suit?” Andrea nodded back toward the chair where she had put her clothes.  
  
Groaning as she finally realized where the outfit came from, Miranda rolled her eyes, “Don’t tell me, Nigel?”  
  
Andrea giggled, but followed the directions from her love by not answering. “If the situation were reversed, tell me, Miranda, could you have stayed away?” Andrea poured all of her emotions into her eyes as she looked down into the stormy blue of the older woman’s eyes. What she saw there took her breath away.  
  
“No.” Miranda whispered hoping that this would be the one and only time they would ever have to have this conversation. “No, I would never be able to leave you if I thought you were in danger.”  
  
Momentarily unable to vocalize her reaction to Miranda’s outpouring of emotion, Andrea kissed her long and hard. She let their lips slide back and forth and then sought out Miranda’s tongue with her own to lick and play and press against its counterpart. “Let’s just try not to get in that kind of danger then, hmm?” Andrea let her eyes twinkle with amusement as she looked at her companion.  
  
Hopeful, Miranda swallowed and then licked her lips. “Okay.” Then she pulled her young love against her body once more so that their lace covered breasts pressed against each other on every inhalation.  
  
Rolling on top of Miranda, Andrea kissed down her throat, over her collarbones and along the straps of her bra. Feeling Andrea’s leg press against her center, Miranda moaned and raised her leg to create a similar effect in her lover. She moaned as she felt Andrea lowering the straps of her bra and seeking out her nipples with her tongue and fingers. They would be lovers now. Fueled by this realization, Miranda pulled the brunette back to her mouth. “I love you, Andrea.”  
  
Pecking her on the lips, the brunette smiled, “And I love you.”  
  
***  
  
Over the months of their courtship and then the weeks of Andrea living in the townhouse, they had become comfortable around each other in the nude. Sleeping beside each other fully clothed had slowly become unbearable, so they had shed their pajamas, even if Miranda had refused to engage in further intimacy. On this night, Miranda felt the heat of Andrea’s eyes and fingertips on her as she kissed, caressed, and slowly pulled her panties down her legs. When Andrea paused her motions, Miranda opened her eyes to take in the countenance of her lover. “Andrea, what is it?” She realized that the younger woman was trembling slightly and sat up with sudden concern.  
  
“I’ve never undressed you before.” Andrea murmured as Miranda shifted to face her on her knees.  
  
Cupping the brunette’s cheek in her palm, Miranda offered, “I feel the difference between us as well, Andrea.” She leaned forward kissing each of the younger woman’s cheeks and then her forehead before pulling back again. “If you’re not ready, we can sleep.”  
  
Reaching out, Andrea rested one hand on Miranda’s shoulder and the other on her hip. “I love how I can feel us changing and becoming more.” She trailed one hand down Miranda’s chest to cup and then tease the pad of her thumb against a taut nipple. “Undress me, please.”  
  
Her body shivering at the earnest request and the tantalizing touch, Miranda reached around Andrea’s back for the clasp of her bra. Letting her tongue tease the pulse point on the younger woman’s neck, Miranda felt her own pulse throb around her body and then down between her legs. “You are so beautiful.” Miranda whispered as she brought her fingers around Andrea’s rib cage, careful not to tickle, as she pulled the bra forward and her breasts free. “Do your nipples tingle for several seconds when they are released from their lacy prison?” Miranda did not wait for an answer as she sat back on her ankles and bent to place open mouthed kisses and then suck Andrea’s nipples one at a time as her fingers traced over her skin creating trails of goose bumps.  
  
“Yes, Miranda.” The overwhelmed woman arched her back into the sensations that Miranda was creating with her lips, tongue, and teeth. She felt her body tightening in the anticipation of something more that she had only ever heard about.  
  
Slipping her thumbs into the sides of Andrea’s panties, Miranda kissed her as she tugged them down. Gasping at first, Andrea then sucked on Miranda’s lip. Their bare breasts slid together creating delightful sensations along the nerves in their bodies. “Lie down, Andrea.” Looking at her with half-lidded eyes, the younger woman bit her lower lip and then nodded almost as if to herself before complying.  
  
Miranda let her eyes devour the sight before her: Andrea’s long brown tresses spread out against the pillows, her nipples rose hued and taut, her smooth skin leading down to those dark curls between her legs, and the panties holding her legs together just above the knees. The older woman had undressed others in her lifetime, but this experience trumped them all to faded memories. Miranda felt the connection between them tugging her forward as she reached for strip of lace above Andrea’s knees and pulled it all the way down and off those long legs. “Miranda?” The needy woman splayed out before her felt the coil of desire rising within her and knew that only her lover could help her understand it.  
  
Collapsing down over her lover, Miranda held herself up with her arms on either side of Andrea’s head. “Yes, love.” She responded with a purr followed by a deep kiss.  
  
Unable to form words for the wants she could feel tingling inside her skin, Andrea reached up with her hands. She traced Miranda’s face with her fingertips while the other hand travelled lower to cup and pinch her breasts and nipples. Then she moved each hand lower so that her left hand fondled Miranda’s breasts and her right hand touched Miranda’s curls to hesitantly explore.  
  
“Andrea.” The breathy moan of her name sent a shiver through the younger woman’s body even as the older woman moved her leg over Andrea’s to open herself further.  
  
The first feel of the wetness of another’s desire only made Andrea greedy for more. Lowering her fingers, Andrea pressed against heated folds until she felt her fingertips slipping between them to discover the wellspring of desire at Miranda’s core. “What do I do?” Andrea looked up into the blissful face of her lover, at once happy and disappointed that those blue eyes were closed.  
  
The words registering slowly in her distracted mind, Miranda opened her eyes to look down at Andrea’s awed expression. Shifting so that her body pressed along the younger woman’s she asked, “Is this your first time?” When Andrea nodded her head, Miranda kissed her and then held her tight to her body. “Face me, Andrea. We will do this together.”  
  
Kissing again, Miranda let her hand roam Andrea’s body until the younger woman copied her. Their lips pressed and slid against each other in turns like their hands touched and reached for different places one after the other. Distracting the younger woman with her teeth pulling against her bottom lip, Miranda pinched her nipple until the younger woman gasped from the pleasurable pain of the motion. Panting Andrea looked at her lover in wonder. Miranda’s hand trailed down moments later until her fingertips dipped into those wet curls around Andrea’s sex. Then she explored with gentle touches as the brunette’s mouth became ragged against her neck. Keeping her pace deliberately slow, the older woman found the opening between the wet labia and then teased back up to Andrea’s clitoris now throbbing with each touch.  
  
Overwhelmed by the storm of emotions rolling through her body, Andrea forgot for several seconds that she had been touching Miranda’s body. Once she recalled this detail, she sucked in a ragged breath and opened her eyes to look at Miranda’s face. The older woman intently watched between their bodies as her arm shifted and moved her fingertips against Andrea’s most intimate flesh. When she looked up to check on Andrea, she smiled a warm lazy smile of desire and then kissed her.  
  
Andrea’s body shuddered as if the sexually charged circuit had been completed with the connection of their lips. “Miranda.” She moaned from deep within her soul.  
  
Lowering her hand between them, Andrea marveled at how their arms instinctively fit together so that they could both reach. She bit her lip when her fingers touched the evidence of Miranda’s arousal. For long seconds, she let her fingers linger there before she remembered to move them just as her partner had shown her through her actions. Carefully, Andrea explored the folds of her lover’s sex. She wasn’t sure what made her think it, but she knew that Miranda had been waiting for her to catch up. She wanted Andrea to be able to feel what she was feeling as they did this together.  
  
“Oh, Andrea. You’re amazing.” Miranda moaned her thoughts to let her lover know she was there with her. It was hard to not buck her hips into the touch to demand more.  
  
Teasing the entrance to Andrea’s sex, Miranda waited to feel the copying motion from her lover. When Andrea moaned again, Miranda couldn’t stop herself from bucking her hips forward against the inexperienced woman’s fingertips. The brunette wailed against the skin of Miranda’s neck as she felt her middle fingers enveloped in wet heat. “You feel so good.” Andrea sighed while Miranda rolled her hips in a slow circle. Wiggling her fingers, Andrea whimpered as she felt Miranda’s fingertips slowly stretch her as they slid home. “Oh, yes.” She panted out as she felt her lover’s fingers press against the thin membrane inside of her and then past it. “Oh, Miranda.” The younger woman groaned as her body rocked onto those fingertips. The twinge of pain had been completely overpowered by the wave of wonderful sensations coursing through her body and her mind.  
  
As if a switch had been flipped between them, both women began to move in a dance utterly beyond them. Their bodies undulated into each other, their thumbs pressed against clits moved by rocking hips, and their mouths feverishly kissed and bit wherever they could press long enough. Once the tension had coiled high enough between them, Andrea wailed loudly as her body tensed and then shook in a way that she thought might break her. Miranda followed her in ecstasy until they were a panting mess wrapped up in each other. Too hot for blankets, they pulled the covers down and cuddled under just the sheet.  
  
***  
  
The atmosphere at the rest of the shows and parties for Fashion Week held a strange kind of tension. The fashion forward all seemed to be waiting for an encore presentation of the gunfight at the luncheon. They either were too quiet or overly effusive. Nigel and Miranda found it amusing and wondered if they could use it in the next issue of Runway somehow. There were certainly enough pictures floating around the internet for them to infuse the news’ shots into the story about fashion week in general. Andrea left for several hours on each remaining day to follow up on her cab driver story in New York. Her mentor at the Mirror really liked what she had seen so far and said that the younger woman would make a fine reporter. However, she returned each evening to her love.  
  
Keeping out of the spotlight as much as possible, Andrea spent time with her lover at the nighttime events and stayed with her through the night. Their connection finally having reached its final destination, Andrea refused to be apart from her lover for any real length of time. She was dreading the fall when she would need to return to classes in Chicago. No matter how strident Miranda’s protests would be, Andrea already had several plans to investigate to maximize her time with the beautiful woman she loved.  
  
“I can’t believe you won’t just come back with me.” Sitting on the bed, Andrea pouted as she watched Miranda finish her packing to return home.  
  
“I’m too much of a public figure to just disappear like that. They get rather fussy with passport stamps and such when you don’t follow the rules.” Miranda smirked at her young lover as she tried to close her bag but had to open it again to adjust the contents.  
  
“And I can’t fly home with you because?” Andrea didn’t want to give up too easily, even if a long flight across the ocean wouldn’t be her first choice.  
  
Nodding at her suitcase in triumph, Miranda grabbed the handle and lowered it to the floor. “You don’t have a passport with you to get into the country when we land.”  
  
Scowling at how reasonable her lover was being, Andrea muttered, “I could just go home instead of customs in New York.”  
  
Sitting with the younger woman on the bed, Miranda stroked her hair. “How would you get on the plane, Andrea, hmm?”  
  
Blowing out a breath, Andrea quickly shifted and sat facing her lover. “When will you land?” Miranda gave her the time again. “And then it’ll take an hour from there?” She tried not to whine, but some of it crept into her tone anyway.  
  
“If you’re lucky, I’ll firetravel from the car once Roy picks us up.” Miranda held back from Andrea’s kiss to tease her but gave in quickly when the younger woman growled low in her throat.  
  
***  
  
Andrea had just registered for her classes and filed her final article for the summer at the Mirror when she heard the front door opening downstairs. Frowning as she looked at the time, Andrea hoped that it wasn’t some kind of burglar. Ever since the events in Paris, the brunette had made sure to truly practice her katas so that she would be ready in the face of anything. Irving shouldn’t have been able to get in that first hit and she had known she needed to get her skills back up to par. That didn’t mean she wanted to do battle with someone in the middle of the townhouse.  
  
Stepping quietly out into the hallway, Andrea paused at the railing to listen for more clues. ‘ _Perhaps one of Miranda’s assistants is retrieving an item, or picking up Patricia?_ ’ That the large dog had not bounded in barking could be taken as a good sign, she supposed.  
  
Familiar steps crossed the foyer and Andrea exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “Where are my girls?” Miranda’s voice sing-songed up to the younger woman. Then the steps continued back toward the kitchen. “Oh, there you are. Oh, yes. You’re such a love.”  
  
Andrea could visualize the scene in the kitchen of Patricia demanding love by head butting and generally walking into her person. She quickly came down the steps wanting to claim her own greeting. Sliding to a stop in her socks, Andrea leaned against the entry to the kitchen. “You’re home early.” She gave her girlfriend a wide smile, before pushing away from the wall. “Don’t hog all the love, Patricia.” The cheeky brunette teased the St. Bernard as she wrapped her arms around Miranda.  
  
“What have you been up to, today?” Miranda smiled as she pulled back from a toe-curling kiss.  
  
Stealing another peck on the lips, Andrea stepped back. “I took care of things in Chicago and finished up my article for the Mirror.” Nodding her head down to the large dog, Andrea added, “We also went for a walk where we slobbered on children.”  
  
Scooping up a large envelope from the counter, Miranda led the way over to the kitchen table. “You can’t just let her slobber on people.” Settling into a seat, she crossed her hands over the top of the file.  
  
Intrigued, Andrea sat next to her lover. “They were teenagers and totally wanted it.” Andrea ruffled the dog’s ears as before she settled at their feet. “So, is this why you’re home early?” The younger woman pointed at the folder.  
  
Miranda looked at the folder for a few more moments and then nodded. “Over the years we have discussed your parents and what happened to them. This file contains all of the information that my people have gathered over the last four years about them. It also includes mention of what happened to Tara’s husband, Jake. It is up to you whether to read about it or not, and whether to share it with your aunt or not. She already knows the main details surrounding what happened to Jake, but she doesn’t know how it connects to your parents.”  
  
Huffing out a harsh breath of air, Andrea looked at the table. “All I have to do is read.” She looked up into Miranda’s eyes and knew that the older woman would be there for her. “It’s kinda surreal to even have the option at this point, you know?” Miranda nodded, but knew that words weren’t necessary. Her presence and patience while Andrea processed the decision before her were what mattered.  
  
“If you’d like to wait and go through this with your aunt present, I would understand.” Miranda took the younger woman’s hand in her own and rubbed her thumb against the soft skin. “Or if you’d like some time to process it by yourself, I could work in the study.”  
  
Andrea slid the envelope in front of her and tapped on it in thought. “You know what’s in it?” Her voice was subdued but strong.  
  
“Yes. I didn’t want to bring it to you until there were real answers. I didn’t want you to get an incomplete picture or get your hopes up.” Miranda could only cross her fingers and believe that Andrea would recognize that her motivation was to protect—not to keep secrets. Giving the younger woman an unfinished version of what had happened to the elder Sachs and why, would have unnecessarily brought their daughter emotional pain and ultimately misunderstanding.  
  
“Why wouldn’t you update me as you went?” Andrea wasn’t sure what she thought at the moment and found it hard to keep breathing and ask the questions she knew needed to be asked before reacting. Her training as a journalist needed to be useful here and so she fell back on it.  
  
“For a long time my people hadn’t been able to find anything, so there was nothing to tell. Then as they were able to find associates of your parents and track down what they were up to, I didn’t want to get your hopes up.” Miranda swallowed as she thought back to the days when the information was first starting to come in. “There was another chunk of time where the first leads ran out. Then we were not speaking for a while. Once the leads were hot again, well, it looked like your parents were actively plotting against the Queen of our people in the uprising that happened seven years ago.” Miranda paused for a few moments letting her words sink in for Andrea. “Only in the last six months did my team try looking into Jake’s death for answers. Your parents weren’t traitors, Andrea. They were spies.”  
  
Tears welling in her eyes, Andrea swallowed before she could speak. “That’s what got them killed?” Her question came out more as a statement, but Miranda answered anyway.  
  
“Yes, Andrea. The full story is there. I made sure that you had the whole story before I brought it to you. Otherwise you’d have to live with even more uncertainty than you have been all this time.” Miranda hoped that her words were reassuring.  
  
Opening the envelope, Andrea pulled the contents out and flipped through the papers. She noticed the occasional photo as she scanned through the pile. It wasn’t as thick of a file as she thought a spy file might be, but then she figured that so many details of a spy’s life were in the shadows that it made sense. A spy story might span hundreds of pages, but the actual file of a real spy would likely be spare on the details. “I think we need coffee.” Andrea looked up at her love and nodded to herself. “I want you to go through the file with me, sort of point out details of importance and go through it.” When she saw Miranda beginning to form another option, Andrea continued. “I will likely need to go through and process in more detail at some future time on my own, but I think for now that I’d like you to guide me.”  
  
As the afternoon faded into darkness, Andrea learned of her parents’ loyalty and bravery. When she first heard the details of their murder, she wept in Miranda’s arms. The pictures taken from the police file finally made sense in her mind—with the feathers all over the scene. Knowing what she knew about her people, Andrea came to terms with the fact that the bodies were never found, because they had been sent on to the heavens in the way of her people. Adding their story to the larger one that she was already familiar with of the uprising and the Queen being able to retain her throne, Andrea felt her heart swelling with pride. Turning to the follow up information about her parents’ assassins, Andrea’s jaw had clenched and her hands holding the paperwork shook. “They’re dead?” She had finally asked as she stacked it all up.  
  
“Yes. They have each met their end one way or another.” Relieved she could reassure her young love, Miranda added, “It’s part of how the information was revealed after all this time.”  
  
Biting her thumb, Andrea nodded. “I’m glad I don’t have to think about where they are or how I’d feel about them.” Sliding it all back into the envelope, the brunette sighed. “Thank you, Miranda.” She shook her head and motioned at the paperwork. “Thanks for getting the information, being so complete about it, and for going through it all with me. I just can’t believe so many things have happened since then.”  
  
Standing up, Miranda pushed her chair out of the way. She held her hand out for Andrea to take and pulled her up to join her in a tight hug. “I have always been here for you and I will always be here for you.” Rubbing her nose against the brunette’s, Miranda added, “Sometimes I wish things were different, like you not having to have lost your parents, or those horrible Converse you wear, but I will always love you.”  
  
With a sly smile, Andrea echoed the sentiment if not the somber tone. “Of course, you do! You were chosen by the fire for me.”  
  
Rolling her eyes and sucking her teeth, Miranda shook her head. “I’d argue, but you’re right.”  
  
**_Fin_**

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**_..._ **


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